Of Alchemy and Magic
by eha1234
Summary: After the homunculus are defeated, Ed is certain that he can get his brother, Al, back. But Truth is insistent on complicating things and soon he is hurtled into a world of magic, adventure and one very annoying pink toad.
1. The Gate

Hi! Yay, new story. I'm really just trying this one out. If you don't want me to continue it I won't so: please, please review. Constructive criticism will be welcomed.

**For anyone who hasn't noticed, this chapter has been updated. Having reread it, I figured that the recap really wasn't necessary. Not much has changed other than a few bits of description, but I hope you like it. **

The Gate

Circles – perfect, intricate, infinite, circular forms overlapping with geometric shapes with strange, alien writing in the middle. Ed had spent years pondering over this and it had haunted him over and over in his nightmares, meaning he knew it off by heart. He stood in the middle, studying his handiwork, making sure he hadn't missed anything before throwing away the long stick he had used to etch it on to the ground. Covered in blood with torn clothes, Ed hurt everywhere but he didn't let that bother him; he would think about it later. Right now there were more important things to think of. Right now he needed to get his brother back.

His closest people were with him, crying for his loss, but Ed refused to believe that it was impossible to bring Al back. He could and he knew how. There would be sacrifices, but they were bearable ones, ones worth making. Ed could do anything for his beloved brother. People asked him what he was doing, so he told them the truth. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal alchemist, was going to his final transmutation.

Except it wasn't his last.

As his palms slammed down onto the floor, everything faded to white.

There was nothing but white, everything was white, all the way to a distant, curving horizon – a chocking, empty white that clung to everything. Behind Ed, there was a humongous metal door floating a foot in the air, its silvery double doors etched with a strange design that looked like the branches of a tree. Ed knew that door, seen it so many times behind the retina of his eyes in frantic nightmares but this time it wasn't a curse, but a way of bargaining for his brother's life.

"Yo," a voice said from behind him and he turned, spotting the white, humanoid figure that could only be distinguished from its identical surroundings by a shadowy black outline.

"Hello again," Ed said calmly.

"So you came back. For your brother I guess, but what will you pay for this time? An arm, a leg? What is worth your brother's soul," Truth laughed but Ed was impassive. He knew what he was doing. He smiled.

Truth was quick to spot the smile and before Ed could say something, he continued.

"I have a… proposal. As payment for your brother, I will send you to another world, a world where magic exists; in essence, you will pay me time," the shadow proclaimed, still grinning but somehow it was more forced then it had been before. The blond boy furiously blinked in confusion, trying to comprehend what had been told to him. Truth had never made a proposal before – all he did was take and gloat.

"What? But… No. I'll sacrifice my gate. It's not worth it," Ed stated strongly. Yes, he could sacrifice alchemy to be with his brother.

It was at that moment Ed saw something that he had never seen before; Truth's smile dropped and an emotion flashed passed his face that was very familiar with but would never have attributed to the shadowy figure. It was fear. Ed almost jolted back in shock. Within a second, Truth's face was back to its blank smile. However something still remained. A tightness in the white half-moon as though Truth was forcing the smile out. What was that?

"Come on! If you can find your way back, I will let you have your alchemy and I might even give you a bonus – Mustang's eyes and Curtis' organs. You will need to meet with a friend who will spy on you. You will need him to get home." His voice was almost too cheery.

"I…" Ed started

"Please," Truth added, involuntary desperation sticking to his voice, so subtle it might have been missed. Ed was getting more confused by the second. Truth – the world, the universe, _god_, as he like to put it – was afraid.

Ed took a moment to think – not only would his brother get his body back, but he could help Mustang and Curtis too. All he had to pay was time. However, there was suspicion swirling around his thoughts; where was the sacrifice, the equivalent exchange. _Magic. _What did that mean? Did it matter what happened to him, as long as the others were safe?

"Yes," he replied after a while. Truth smiled.

A great groan sounded across the expanse and with it the huge grey doors of the Gate glided outwards, showing the blackness behind. Black tendrils swarmed out, each inky tentacle ending in tiny hands, grabbing like starved children begging for food. Ed did not move.

"Brother!" the thin voice screeched. Ed turned and his eyes fixed on a figure in the distance. Al. His body was so thin and brittle, like it would break with the slightest touch. Havel eyes locked on to his own and a gasp of recognition found Ed's ears. His brother struggled against the black hands but it was pointless. For a grown man like Armstrong it would still have been impossible; for the half-starved boy, with wrists so thin they were like sticks and ribs in plain sight, any straining seemed to break him.

Ed looked at him and, although it felt like he was being torn apart, he knew from his heart that he had made the right choice. Al would be safe and that was all he needed.

Behind his brother too, the Gate was opening. But instead of blackness there was light – pure and blinding, streaming in from beyond. Ed felt himself being pulled backwards, away from the only family left to him. _It's only for a while, _he thought desperately, as though thoughts could reach the distraught Al.

"Wait for me Al. Wait for me. I'll come back, I promise!" Ed shouted. His voice sounded quiet, too quiet, but Al must have heard for he relaxed ever so slightly. Al opened his mouth to say something, but he was gone. _Back home, _Ed thought. _Safe. _The hands were still around him, pulling him to the gate.

Just as he passed the threshold and the doors screeched shut, he heard Truth's voice ring in his ears:

"'Till next time, Fullmetal."

Then he was thrown in to a screaming void.

-o0o-

Ed was tumbling through a world of terrifying, raw information. He had been here a few times, but nothing could prepare somebody for this. For these few moments it was like he knew everything, from every time and every place, nothing was hidden. He understood. For one drop of eternity hanging in the air, it was like his eyes had been opened and everything suddenly made sense. It hurt - his head banged and pain shot through it like daggers made of fire. Seconds stretched to infinity and after what felt like forever, but could only have been moments, a light appeared in front of him.

Light from a foreign sun, from a foreign sky.

_A new world, _he thought. Then, he hurtled through like a bullet.

-o0o-


	2. Introductions

**Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews. The story will be continued and hopefully completed, but meanwhile, please enjoy the next chapter!**

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><p><span>Introductions<span>

Harry Potter thought he was angry.

In reality he was closer to livid.

All summer he had been stuck with his relatives Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon with their son Dudley, who by all accounts, should not really be called relatives at all. He had been ignored, shouted at, attacked by dememtors, expelled, un-expelled (was that a word?) confused... and to top it off with a huge cherry on the top of the fiery volcano that was Harry's temper, his closest friends, Ron and Hermione, were really not being any sort of help whatsoever. Any questions he sent by mail were either ignored or answered far to vaguely to deduce anything and it was just so frustrating to be cooped up in this place not knowing anything. Oh, and had he mentioned the trial for underage magic when he had only used it to defend himself? Assaulted by the gliding, hooded forms that leached out happiness out of the very air itself had been traumatizing enough; the prospect of being expelled from his school, the only place that he could call home, was crushing.

The 15 year old was a spindly boy with knobbly knees and a mass of messy black hair piled precariously on top of his head, refusing to lie flat whatever he did. Having been growing at an outstanding rate for the last couple of months combined with the fact they were Dudley's old ones (which was probably why they swamped him), his clothes seemed oddly ill fit for the tall teenager.

Number twelve Grimmauld place, the headquarters of the Order of Phoenix and Sirius Black's old home, was where Harry was at now. It was dark, damp and forbidden – shadows clung like reminiscent memories in the corners of vast yet empty rooms and in the cracks of old plasterwork, pooling behind solemn oil portraits. What the Order of Phoenix was, Harry had no idea, but it was to do with bringing down Voldemort and was run by Dumbledore.

Voldemort. Harry laughed bitterly, surprised at the coldness of his own voice; Voldemort had been the woe of his life for the last fifteen years and now he was well and truly back. Harry didn't know which the most sobering thought was: the fact he was back or the eerie quietness of Voledemort's actions after his resurrection. Leaning forward and pressing his elbow against the dark wood of the stair banister he looked down towards the small square, barely visible in the half light that was the entrance to the place. Merlin, he was bored. If only something... anything... would happen.

Later, Harry would probably have contemplated whether that was a dangerous wish.

Suddenly a flash of blinding, blue white light erupted in the hallway. There was little time to breathe, little time to react other than a small twitch of his fingers tightening around the smooth wood before secondly the sound hit him like a wall. A huge bang vibrated in Harry's ears. His teeth clattered. His bones shook. Shocked, Harry blinked as a circle of glowing ruby light appeared on the carpeted floor and a boy emerged out of nowhere.

The first thing Harry noticed was the blood. Thick clumps of sticky crimson liquid covering everything: his face, his arms, his chest, clogging up his long, golden hair that was kept in a small braid. Swaying, the boy looked around quickly, his expression startled and confused – a rabbit, stuck in the spotlight. Harry opened his mouth, closed it again, unsure what to say, but instantly members of the order where clambering down the stairs towards the intruder, wands raised. It was that moment that Harry realised that he hadn't breathed for a good ten seconds. He let out an explosive breath and forced his fingers to uncurl, watching the blood flood back to his white knuckles.

"Who are you?" a voice – Mad-Eye Moody's – asked gruffly.

"Where… Who are …?" the boy whispered his voice horribly coarse, like he had sandpaper down his throat. Black trousers, black jumper. Harry vaguely wondered if he was a Goth.

'_Don't be ridiculous,' _the still concentrating part of his mind said sharply. Harry saw the boy as he staggered one step and crash to the floor. The tension in the air lingered for a few more seconds as people sought to confirm whether he was actually unconsciousness, before ebbing off warily. An ominous silence followed. Harry was already sprinting down the steps, taking two at a time.

-o0o-

Ed collapsed on to the floor with a grown. He wanted to scream at himself for looking weak in front of all these people, but the wounds that he had not felt before because of the adrenaline pumping through his veins were on fire and his head was pounding like he had just run in to a brick wall. He tasted bile rising to the back of his mouth. Ed lay there for a few more seconds, desperately trying to calm his laboured breathing, feeling the stares of others drilling in to him. He felt someone step towards him saying he was harmless (harmless!) but was contradicted and his instinct kicked in with welling fear, compelling him to sit up.

Groggily he did so but the hammering in his head intensified, filling his vision with wayward sparks, and he swayed uncertainly. Unexpectedly, he was assaulted by a plump woman with flaming red hair asking something but the words were vague and ringing in Ed's ears.

"Are you alright? Look at you, you poor boy..."

Was she trying to ask whether he was fine? Ed didn't know. He heard the words but his mind was a few steps behind in trying to comprehend there meaning. _Truth, Gate, Al..._ Ed looked in to her eyes once and immediately saw the almost motherly kindness in there warm depths. His heart throbbed but he ignored it. Ed attempted a smile.

"I'm fine," he whispered. She looked unbelievingly at the crimson liquid slowly soaking into the floor at their feet.

"Who are you? Where are you from?" a voice questioned grumpily, suspicion dripping from his voice. A man limped in to view. He was missing a leg, hundreds of scars covered his face and his nose was crooked badly as though it had been broken a lot of times (in fact a whole chunk had been taken out) that was part hidden in a curtain of grey, grizzly hair. He, like most of the people looking suspiciously or worriedly at the Ed was pointing a thin twig like stick at him, which Ed found more than a little strange.

"Alastor…" the women said meekly but he glared at her.

"Who are you?" he hissed again. Ed almost smiled. He liked that question, liked the answer and all the attention and spotlight that came with it. Well, used to. He wasn't quite sure anymore. Not after the title had been used for so many grisly purposes.

"Edward Elric." (He left out the 'Fullmetal Alchemist'. Ed honestly didn't want trouble)"I'm from Amestris. Where am I?" Ed replied and then frowned before continuing, "What's with the sticks?" The man, Alastor, glowered at Ed.

"You don't know what a wand is?" he asked, taken aback. Ed purposely exaggerated his confusion by raising his eyebrows. Either this was a crazy cult and he was screwed or a genuine lead of information. He was leaning towards the former.

"Isn't that what wizards use in stories?" he whispered uncertainly.

"You're a muggle?" the man said, eyeing Ed suspiciously.

"A muggle?"

"A non-magic person," Alastor explained irritably, obviously having not expected the boy to be so oblivious. Ed opened his mouth to shoot back that magic didn't exist and that they were delusional that '_magic' _went against everything he believed in but something stopped him. Truth... Truth had said 'A would where magic exists'. Could it be possible? As far as he could tell Truth didn't lie; or at least, Ed didn't think he did. Every ounce of common sense told him that it was impossible, that it was illogical and more than that - wrong. Surely for magic to work, something of equal value must be given; nothing can be made out of nothing, says the laws of Equivalent Exchange.

"Impossible," he whispered.

"Magic does exist, young man," the man stated gruffly. Suddenly a bomb went off in Ed's head and he felt rage sweeping through his body and giving him strength like a burst of sugar.

"YOUNG! WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE COULD BE COMPARED TO A FULLSTOP," Edward roared and naturally, everybody in the room was taken aback by the reaction.

"You're quite a bit shorter then…" another man started but Ed growled like an irritated demon.

"I am not SHORT!"

The rather irrational outburst had left Ed feeling even more disorientated and the room was spinning in crazy loops around him. He tried to rise but felt nausea overtake him and tipping forward, he found himself leaning on the plump ginger woman. He felt too tired to be embarrassed. Involuntarily, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting darkness take him.

-o0o-

By the time Harry had skidded into the entrance hall the whole commotion was over. Harry eyed the stranger wearily. After he had appeared, the members of the order crowded around him but he had collapsed before anything could be found out. What was he doing in number 12 Grimwald place? The crowed of worried adults had stood not knowing what to do and it was Mrs Weasley who had acted first, saying he was a child and could not be harmful. Mad-Eye Moody pointed out that the teenager was covered in blood and harmless people were not usually covered in blood. (Harry would love to have agreed, if it wasn't for the fact he too had come back from the Chamber of Secrets covered in almost as much of the crimson liquid as the boy.)

The boy had sat up slightly and managed to say he was called Edward and that he was from Amestris, then shouted a bit but once again, he collapsed, this time on Mr Weasley. Another awkward silence had followed.

"What do we do?" Mrs Weasley asked, carefully lying the boy back in to the ground in a more comfortable position.

"I suggest we use..." Moody started ominously.

"He is hurt. Take him to a spare bedroom and treat to his wounds. Sirius, would you care to accompany Molly," a man's voice suddenly erupted from the door at the end of the hallway. From his perch near the corner post of the massive stairway, Harry gasped as he saw the figure with a long white hair and a matching snow coloured beard.

"Dumbledore," a clump of greasy jet black hair stated coldly, emotion not obvious in his voice. Sirius hastily led Molly who gently put the blond boy on a floating stretcher up the stairs.

Dumbledore was talking to members of the Order and would soon enter another meeting behind closed doors, somewhere that was unavailable to Harry.

"Sir!" Harry called out but the headmaster took no heed to his voice. "Sir!" he tried again but, swamped by the anxious crowd, Harry lost him. Biting his lower lip, he looked up and caught a glimpse of gold. The boy. He started pushing past the crowd.

-o0o-

Harry knew that spying wasn't good but he was curious and wanted to know what was going on. The boy who had appeared out of nowhere was peculiar; shining golden hair and startling gold eyes like a werewolf, like Lupin. They were, however, somehow slightly brighter than the old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's though. Harry had followed Dumbledore to this room and snuck in just before the door was closed with a bang and locked. Harry didn't know what to feel; suspicions, obviously – he could be a Death Eater – or worried. The boy (Edward) was only around his age and looked bemused, almost enraged when he was shown examples of magic. He was either not a Death Eater or very, very good at hiding it. A muggle, maybe.

They had healed his wounds as best they could, stopping the garnet coloured liquid from flowing like a river from his body and stitching the wounds together with magic. Shards of metal had got stuck in to his shoulder for some reason and Mrs Weasley had carefully taken those out. It was going fine, and he was breathing more easily which was a relief from the pained gasps that had echoed in the cramp bedroom moments before. Harry noted curiously that one arm was slightly thinner than the other and that the fingernails were longer. He had scars everywhere too; white lines that criss-crossed his skin and one, worryingly, right over his heart. Then they had uncovered his leg. Harry stifled a gasp as he saw that it was made of metal. Later Edward had explained it was automail – prosthetic limbs connected to his nerves. Dumbledore looked curiously at that but said nothing.

"How did you lose a leg?" Molly gasped in shock with wide eyes.

"I did something wrong. I paid the price." Ed answered simply. When Dumbledore asked why he was here he explained that he didn't know and that he needed to get back; he didn't say where, just 'back'. Edward looked sad, a terrible jolting sadness that only passed his face for a faction of a second.

"I need to get back to Al – my brother," he whispered. Harry, who was trying to pull out something hard from under his bottom to make his hiding place more comfortable, froze at the unexpected silence that followed.

Dumbledore asked Edward if he wanted to attend Hogwarts and though he refused at first, stating he was fine on his own but his eyes twinkled with hope and excitement when the wizened professor told him about the extensive library.

"If you go as a student, you will be able to do your research peacefully there. A couple of students are in this house and I'm sure you can get acquainted." He looked over to where Harry was crouching under the desk and Harry's heart jolted as he realised he had been spotted. "Harry, are you going to introduce yourself or stay behind that desk for a very long time," Dumbledore said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Shocked Harry stood up from the shadows, brushing as much of the clinging dust on his clothes as he could and trying not to look too guilty.

"Oh, don't worry. Harry is quite trustable," Dumbledore continued and Edward seemed to calm down ever so slightly.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry introduced, offering a hand.

Edward took it mumbling,

"Call me Ed." Dumbledore smiled merrily at the two boys, the familiar twinkle intensified in his eye but Harry noted he never looked at him directly.

"Well now, Molly, would you be as kind as to show the young boy around," he asked, nodding at Mrs Weasley who inclined her head in agreement. Harry noticed Ed clench his hand at the word 'young' and made a metal note not to mention his small stature under any circumstances.

As he left with Mrs Weasley, Ed looked at Harry quizzed as though the dark haired boy confused him but shook his head slightly before leaving.

"Can we trust him?" Harry asked still looking at the wooden door. "If he doesn't know about magic, isn't he a muggle."

"I don't know. He isn't a Death Eater, that much is apparent, and he almost certainly isn't a muggle - there are ways to tell - but he is hiding something that even I cannot see. Yes, he has an astoundingly strong will. He has seen far more than a boy his age should have," Dumbledore sighed. As Harry turned to him, he averted his gaze. "Keep an eye on him Harry. We cannot take this forcibly if we are to gain his trust. We will have to wait until he tells us willingly." Harry nodded, suddenly wondering whether he should let his guard down around the boy.

"Of course, for now, treat him as a friend," Dumbledore finished his smile returning to his face. "Goodbye Harry. Good luck with the trial tomorrow." He left through the door leaving Harry. In all the excitement, he had forgotten about the trial and suddenly a knot of fear wound itself in his stomach as he thought about being expelled when he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't want to be expelled.

-o0o-

Ed didn't know what to make of the boy, Harry. He had been spying, and Ed was obviously angry – at the boy for listening and himself for not realising he was there but he was seemed innocent and he didn't feel like taking it further. He was curious and Ed would have done the same thing in his position. Then there was what Truth had said; something about needing a friend who would spy on him to get back. Great, Ed thought sarcastically, all he needed to do was find a way to jump dimensions. The word 'magic' still made his head spin but he put the thought away for later when he would need to get as many books in his hands as possible for studying. The school, Hogwarts apparently had a suitable library. Mrs Weasley seemed intent on protecting Ed and acting as though he was a child; it was comforting to know that someone was watching out for him, but the reminder of a kindly affection brought pangs of pain and guilt to his heart as Ed though of his mother. Dumbledore was strange in his own right; he had power behind the mask of kind, twinkling eyes and wrinkled lines in his face.

The next day, the sky was heavy with clouds, the thin scatter of rain falling softly on the thin panels of glass. Even in strong day light, Ed doubted whether the sun would have been able to penetrate the heavy air of the large house and today, the still darkness was oppressing. His left leg ached. Sitting up on the bed that had been provided for him, he clutched the mercilessly cold metal tightly, feeling the surface hard and unyielding underneath the thin fabric of borrowed pyjamas. Because he had no clothes of his own, other than the tattered and bloodstained ones he had arrived in, he was forced to borrow off of the other teenagers also present in the house. Other than Harry Potter, there was Hermione Granger (a brown haired girl of great intelligence and enthusiasm) and Ron, Ginny, Fred and George Weasley (all with identical shades of crimson hair). He borrowed off of Harry; the shortest boy, but he wasn't going to let anyone mention that.

When he went downstairs for breakfast, ignoring any suspicious stares shot his way, he found the residence of the house in a state of flurried movement.

"What is it?" he asked a pale faced Harry who was nibbling on toast at the dining table.

"Oh, I've got a trial," he replied quietly.

"What for?"

"Just a bit of Underage magic."

"What's that?" Harry did not have time to answer, however, before he was whisked away by a man muttering soft reassurances. Ed hoped he was OK. The boy looked as though he would be genuinely sick.

Not knowing what to do, Ed wondered through the corridors, checking doors now and then to see if the room beyond contained anything of interest. After a while it became quite obvious to him that he was being followed. He checked once or twice more to be sure – rounding a corner and doubling back on himself to catch the fleeting shadow of someone (or more accurately, two people) diving for cover; Hermione, going by the hair and also the youngest Weasley boy. Maybe Harry had put them up to it. He did seem the type.

He returned to his room and slammed the door closed as a deterrent to unwanted eyes. Slumping back on to his bed, he stared out of the grubby window for a second, watching the water trickling in avenues down the rickety plane. It was chilly. He shivered slightly.

There was a piece of parchment (seriously! What was wrong with _paper_?) lying on the floor. He picked it up, twirled it between his thumb and his finger. He barely knew what he was doing as he slammed his palms together, fingers upwards, as though he was praying and pressed it against the yellow surface, picturing what he wanted. Nothing happened. There was uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. He felt... nothing. Not a single spark of energy let alone a buzz of life. Ed didn't know whether he should be surprised or not – it _was _another world, who knew what sort of rules applied here. It didn't stop him trying again. And again. And again. Slapping his hands against the parchment in growing frustration and teeth gritted in quiet desperation because the parchment_ would not change. _It was pointless he knew. If it didn't work once, it probably wouldn't work again unless he changed a variable; he was a scientist for God's sake, so what was he doing? The thought didn't help the fact he felt like one of his limbs had just been chopped off, like he was weak and defenceless and useless.

"..._I'll let you have your Alchemy..."_

Truth had never said _when _he could have his Alchemy. A few days before, staring at Al's broken body, it had been so easy to say he was going to chuck that skill away, that it wasn't worth the trouble it had given him. He wasn't sure now.

"Pull yourself together man!" he exclaimed at the wall. Obviously, it didn't answer.

-o0o-

There was no other word for it – the ministry was corrupt. It had always been suspected, but Harry's trial for underage magic made it apparent. Being dragged in front of a full Wizengamot court was unnerving enough, being interrupted every time he tried to say something was infuriating. They were intent on expelling Harry, on getting rid of the _liability _because they refused to see the truth in front of them. Because they somehow believed that if they didn't acknowledge that Voldemort was back, the problem would just disappear. Fudge, who had forgiven him after a bout of accidental magic in third year, who had said that he was forgiven for all charges, was now denying any knowledge of his own words.

_Silver lining in every cloud_, thought Harry. He had been freed of all charges, and that was the main objective. It was nearly the start of the new term.

-o0o-


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**New chapter posted. Thank you for all your reviews ;). I'll try to take them into consideration.**

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><p>The Hogwarts Express<p>

Edward Elric stayed at Grimmauld place for the next month and a half or so. It passed in a blur. A letter came, saying what books he needed for the first of September when Hogwarts started and all the children residing in the house went to Diagon Alley to buy supplies. They went by Floo, which needless to say, was not a pleasant experience. Flying through a fireplace at top speed was not Ed's description of fun. For the first week or so, everyone had seemed to be torn whether he was a muggle or not but that was soon settled after he entered Olivander's wand store – the first wand he picked up blew a vase sky high, dispelling any doubt that he was non-magical, and the second was not much better. Finally, he settled on a holly wand with a dragon heart string core (12 inches and good for transfiguration, apparently). Casual clothes, uniform and books were still on the 'to do' list so he visited the shops in turn. Every time he walked down the alley, overwhelming with its whirlwind of colours and smells, he couldn't help but gasp in awe, or be fixated by one of the fantastic shop window displays of different magical items. It was so weird and different and not just because everyone was wearing robes; it buzzed with foreign energy, pulsing beneath its skin. Ed hated to be cliché, but it really was magical.

When he returned to Grimmauld place, which he now knew was owned by Harry's godfather, Sirius, he took the time to study as much as he could by going through book after book of all the previous years by borrowing off almost everybody he could and though people seemed to be astounded at first by the rate he read at, a quick glare stopped the questions right away. He needed to concentrate. Even if he prided himself to be a good research, stuffing five years worth of information into his head in the space of a month was tough, and that was excluding the practical work. Ed was determined though. Not just for school – that was rather inconsequential for the alchemist – but because without his alchemy, only magic could bring him home.

At last the first of September came and Ed, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred, George, Ginny and a few other people stepped out of Grimwald place to head for King's Cross train station. Ed had made good friends (ish) with all of them (though he was still more-than-slightly annoyed at Ron for calling him short and the twins constantly delighted in taunting him – he was still growing!). The journey to the train station was uneventful. He was now heading to Hogwarts. All he had to do know was find a way to get home.

To say Ed was confused would be like saying Mt. Everest was a hill. It might have something to do with the fact the platform he was looking for didn't exist and he was quite lost in the massive crowd of people walking purposely around in the huge station. It might have something to do with the fact nobody seemed worried about it. A letter had come a few days after August and in it contained a ticket and a letter and a note telling him to go to platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station and although Ed could see the sign for platform nine and platform ten there was no sign of anything in-between, unless you counted the tracks. Although he was new to magic, Ed was pretty certain going on the tracks was not a good idea. He stopped, confused.

"Umm… guys? Where's the platform?" Ed asked. The children looked at him, a little strangely.

"Oh," Hermione said. "I forgot you aren't familiar with the wizarding world." And with a little smile, she carefully explained how to get on to the platform.

"No, wait, so…" the 'so' was elongated dramatically and dwindled in volume near the end, "...you have to go through the wall," Ed repeated sceptically and a little shocked. Ron nodded vigorously with mild exasperation on his face.

"It's perfectly OK. Most people are scared first time," Mrs Weasley, Ron's mother, said kindly. Ed breathed in deeply before looking back at the very solid looking brick wall. Calmly he started to walk towards it, getting faster and more confident as he did so. The wall still looked solid but as it hurtled towards him he forced himself to continue, not wanting to look stupid. I couldn't hurt that much if he ran in to it although it would be very awkward. The dusty red bricks filled his vision and at last second he closed his eyes. He kept going for about a second but the collision never came. Ed opened his eyes and gasped.

Platform nine and three-quarters was a normal platform at first glance with a crowd of people bustling on the concrete station, until you looked at the scarlet steam engine waiting at the platform, or the owls hooting loudly, or the heavy trunks that littered the place. Smoke drifted overhead, a heavy smudge of grey obscuring the arched roof, and instinctively Ed coughed but laughed at the same time in wonder. Hung from the large archway looming above his head was a sign – 'Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock'.

"It's amazing isn't it," Harry commented as he came from behind and stood next to Ed. Looking behind, Ed glanced at a wrought iron arch where the wall between platform nine and platform ten had been and saw that everyone else had followed too. He looked back to the sparkling red of the train's streak exterior and laughed.

-o0o-

By the time Harry and his friends got on to the Hogwarts Express after saying goodbye to Harry's godfather, Sirius disguised as a black dog (after being wrongly accused of murder and escaping the wizard prison Azkaban, Sirius Black was certainly one that did not want to draw attention to himself), most of the compartments were filled with students.

"Shall we go and find an empty one then?" Harry asked but Ron and Hermione suddenly looked nervous, fiddling with their fingernails and the cuffs of their sleeves. Slowly, they explained that, as they were prefects, they needed to go to the prefect carriage. They left, talking nervously that it wouldn't be for the whole journey and that they really didn't want to go but they had to, trying to make Harry feel better. He smiled at them but suddenly, even with Ginny and Ed beside him, he felt oddly alone. With Ginny and Ed who had been listening to the conversation rather awkwardly, they went down the long corridor which was now swaying gently from side to side as the train moved forward.

Stares were something Harry was used to. Having defeated Lord Voldemort fourteen years ago when he was a one year old baby warranted quite a few but something was different about the stares being shot at him as he slowly trudged forward. They were cold and malicious, sometimes mixed with disbelief as though he had broken some secret, wordless taboo. Harry suddenly had the impression he was walking down the corridor naked. He dispelled the thought with an angry shake of his head. Maybe it was just Ed's coat. It _was _bright red.

At last they found a reasonably empty compartment with one person already in there, a girl with shockingly pale blond hair with dreamy, grey eyes. The blonde girl, who was silently reading a magazine, was around Ginny's age with unkempt hair that settled at her waist and with an atmosphere of unnamed _weirdness_ around her. Harry wondered whether it was to do with the row of brown Butterbear corks strung around her neck or the magazine being read upside down. Tilting his head slightly, Harry read the word 'Quibber' in blazing letters across the front.

"Hello Luna, can we use this compartment?" Ginny asked. A friend, apparently. The girl tipped her upside-down magazine slightly so her large eyes peered at them over the top and unhurriedly nodded. The three bustled in quickly, heaving to put their heavy trunks on top of the metal luggage holder above them. Ed lifted his trunk with ease, Harry noted.

"Hello," Luna said softly. Everyone muttered a soft 'hello' in reply as they settled down. After a few tentative starts, a conversation was sprung between the two girls and the compartment silence was punctured with excited chatter.

"Look, it must be a new housing development. There's a sign on the gate."

At the word 'gate' Ed looked like he was lost for a moment, confusion and something like pain passing his face. Harry looked at him distrustfully, knowing that this could be a chance to find out something about the mysterious boy who had turned up in Grimwald place in a flash of light. Ed hadn't revealed much about himself and Mad-Eye Moody had insisted using Veritaserum, a truth serum but Mrs Weasley pointedly refused to let him do that to a child and apparently Dumbledore agreed. However, after a moment, the emotion lifted and Ed turned back to the window from which Harry could see the scenery as a blur whizzing past.

Harry turned to Ed, intending to say something but found that he was fast asleep with his face pressed against the window. He slept for more than he should, Harry was sure. Sighing, Harry stared vacantly out the window, waiting for Ron and Hermione to arrive. However much clothes must be interesting for girls, they really didn't appeal to him and therefore having a conversation with Ginny and Luna did not seem to be possible.

-o0o-

"You will meet a friend who will spy on you. You will need him to get home," _Truth explained, repeating what he had said when Ed had been brought to this world whilst leering. His mouth was unnaturally wide, the blank white grin stretching literally from ghostly ear to another. Ed recalled the desperation on his face when he had first proposed the agreement one month ago – looking at Truth in his usual pompous self made him doubt his memory._

"_Don't you get it?" _

"_Do you mean Harry?" Ed asked. He had been watching that first day and Ed was sure that Dumbledore had told him to keep an eye on him; Harry and his two best friends had been following him like a dog ever since. Ed had a feeling they were trying to be inconspicuous about it but not exactly succeeding. Staring at people over a book did not count as subtle; nor did hiding behind a door and squealing that they had lost something when they were caught. _

"_You'll see," Truth laughed. _

_It's not a game, Ed wanted to say but the shadow had disappeared. _

-o0o-

At last Ron and Hermione came back. They talked a little too eagerly about how uninteresting prefect duties were, going over it over and over again like a broken record. He appreciated the concern, but it really wasn't helping. Doubt swirled round his head. They didn't even form proper words, just twirled round his head; a dog chasing its own tail.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open with a bang. Harry looked towards the entrance that now to reveal a boy with sleek platinum hair and almost groaned in annoyance – he really did not have time to deal with Malfoy. The boy had his chest puffed out to show his glinting prefects badge (although Harry had received a warning from Ron and Hermione, it still irritated him immensely), his pale mouth twitching slightly on one side as though suppressing a smile – a perfect snob. The image would have been comical if it wasn't for the bulky shadows of Crabbe and Goyle standing protectively behind the figure.

"What do you want?" Harry hissed at the sneering boy a little too aggressively.

"You better watch your mouth or I might give you a detention. You see, I, unlike you have been made a prefect." Harry winced at the painful reminder. Malfoy continued with his self compliments.

"Which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments and I, unlike you, can take points off of your house."

"Yeah, but, you, unlike me are a git so get out and leave us alone," Harry shot back and for a second Malfoy looked enraged. His pale cheeks flushed with angry colour. Curling his lip he continued, glancing at the occupants of the compartments, all stifling a giggle.

"So you hang out with first years now."

"First year?!" Ed exclaimed, clenching his gloved fist in anticipation of what was coming next. He gave off the air of a bomb waiting to explode. Ron, Ginny and Hermione, all of whom had spent a month in Ed's company knew what was coming.

"Yes, you; don't tell me you're another mudblood," Malfoy sneered and jabbed a thumb in the general direction of Hermione. He might as well have flicked the switch of a nuclear bomb.

Harry barely registered what happened next; however as far as he could tell, Malfoy never stood a chance.

"Who the HELL are you calling so SHORT HE COULD BE SQUISHID BY THE SMALLEST BUG IN THE WORLD!"

"How DARE you insult Hermione you atrocious RAT!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, MALFOY!"

At that same instant, Ed lunged at the slightly taken aback Malfoy. One of the two cronies behind him, Crabbe, stepped forward clumsily to intercept but Ron, having finally snapped at Malfoy's continuing insults and motivated by Ed's dramatic reaction, barged in to the massive boy and knocked him off his feet. Hermione was squealing at him to stop. By now Ed had punched the no longer conceited looking Malfoy in the nose. Goyle also threw a lumbering punch at the red blur but he sidestepped out of the way. Unluckily, however, Goyle grabbed Ron's arm as he did so, just as Crabbe got back up. Ed looked round to see him raise a fist.

"Shi…" Ed slammed his palms together and pressed them on the floor. For the briefest of moments that stretched out to an eternity, there was pin dropping silence. Then, without warning, everything fast forwarded at once. Light crackled around the compartment, electric blue and vivid against Harry's retinas before two stone fists erupted out of the ground, rising up quickly from the wooden floor. They knocked the bullies full in the face, flinging them out of the compartment in the process. Ed quickly shut the door.

"What the bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh my God," shrieked Hermione, partly in terror and dread of the punishments given for attacking a prefect, partly in amazement of what had happened. Harry was both curious and incredibly suspicious at the same time. Was that a type of wandless magic that Ed could use? Or something else entirely? He wasn't sure, but he intended on finding out and telling Dumbledore as soon as possible. It more than wanting to do something good for the order, or being one step close to defeating Voldemort; Harry was curious. There was so much mystery about the boy and he wanted to know what it was. After years of thinking magic could, surely, no longer surprise him, here he was, utterly out of his depth.

-o0o-

Under what Ed hoped was a calm exterior, Ed was panicking quite badly. It had been instinctual, really. After years of fighting with his Alchemy, it had become a habit to use it. He wanted to swear, quite loudly too. He hadn't been expecting that. Not at all. After many trials away from unwanted eyes in Grimwald Place, Ed had become certain that Alchemy _didn't _work in this world. Not a single spark of a reaction had he been able to conjure, much to the frustration of the renowned Alchemist. Why now? Why did it work? What had changed? He stared at his hands, gloved as always with white silk, even though he had no need to now.

"It's a… different type of magic," he tried to explain but even he had to admit it sounded rather pathetic. Or did it? Could it be magic? He had magic. Otherwise he would not have been able to purchase a wand. Not magic, not alchemy – something in between. He needed more research, more information. He needed to experiment.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "I've never seen anything like it before." He needed to calm down.

Ed looked at the faces in front of him. He saw confusion and terror but moreover, suspicion. He was thinking again, deducing, balancing. Could he trust these people? They spied on him. They would report back to the adults after every finding. After facing years of corrupt governments and horrifying wars, he didn't think he could trust large scale organizations again. But he wanted to trust these people. He really did want to. They were the only friends he had and hadn't Truth said something about needing them to get back. He took a deep, shuddery breath.

"I don't know... but I think it's related to Alchemy." For now, it was the only clue he was willing to give. If this didn't satisfy them, he didn't know what he would do. The expressions on most of the faces looking up at him from the compartments were blank but Hermione, the clever one, was instantly alert.

"Nicholas Flamel… Dumbledore's friend. He created the philosopher's stone with Alchemy didn't he?" she exclaimed. Ed's face darkened rapidly, mind working frantically.

"He what…" His voice was low and full of anger. So many memories, not all of them pleasant. The screams, the explosions, Tim Marchoh, the dead look in his eyes, Solf , nothing more needed to be said. Hermione took one look at his expression and sat back down in her seat, terrified.

"That stone is evil!" he added, trying hard to conceal the emotion whirling behind it.

"Dumbledore's good," Harry exclaimed, jumping to defend the friend of his head teacher (and by extension, his head teacher too).

Ed paused. Struggling to keep composure, he took a deep breath in, then out. It was a world of magic. Surely the rules were different here; maybe, just maybe, you could create a philosopher's stone without sacrificing lives. Magic did seem to bend a lot of rules, going against everything he had learnt since the age of four. For the first time, he hoped so.

The philosopher's stone in his world should never have been created.

Information, research, experimentation. It was science. There must be rules governing this weird world of no apparent rules. He was a scientist. If a philosopher's stone could be made without sacrificing lives, then maybe going home was not as horrifically difficult as he had first thought.

"Sorry," he muttered before looking back outside the window. It was getting dark. They would arrive soon. He had little time.

He told them he would explain later, maybe. Definitely not know. Who knows who could be listening through the thin walls of the compartment?

Ed studied the dark platform bustling with students, trying not to get split from the group; he blended in more now that he had taken off his trademark, bright red coat and swapped it with a Hogwarts robe so it was easier to get lost. He had no idea where he was going, but as long as he went with the other students, he was sure he would arrive at the right place. Harry seemed rather worried, but Ed played not heed – he was concentrating on not being trampled by the mass of students that crowded the thin platform. A lantern swung somewhere nearby, and a strict female voice was calling for First Year's to follow her. Ed wasn't a first year, so he ignored the swinging light.

Harry was now talking about a man called 'Hagrid' and how he couldn't find him. Ed didn't know who he was so there was little he could do to help, other then give an encouraging smile as he led with the rest of the group. There was talk of horseless carriages which, although Ed hated to admit it, interested him quite a lot. How could a carriage move with nothing pulling it?

This was certainly going to be an interesting year.

-o0o-


	4. The Feast at Hogwarts

**A new chapter is up. I hope you enjoy it ;)**

**Having been informed of a spelling mistake in the last two chapters I have corrected all the ones I can spot, but if you spot any more, please tell me. **

**Once again, thanks to all reviewers. **

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><p><strong>I don't know if anyone else spotted it but there was another mistake in this chapter. It has been corrected. Thank you. <strong>

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><p><span>The Feast at Hogwarts<span>

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry wondered out loud, looking at Professor Grubby-Plank who was calling the first years in Hagrid's place. He looked left and right, searching for the familiar, looming shadow that the two metre tall man usually gave off but found that it was futile – he was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know, but you're blocking the door," Ginny pointed out and Harry stepped out of the way. Letting himself be swept by the crowd, Harry walked down the rain washed roads towards the horseless carriages waiting to take students to school. Maybe Hagrid just wasn't feeling very well, he thought.

_Have you ever known Hagrid to not be "feeling very well"? _ The thought was unwelcome.

"Shut up," he muttered quietly under his breath.

"Sorry?" Ginny asked from beside him, startling Harry with her clear voice.

"Nothing." He didn't need to worry about this. He already had things to worry about.

_Yeah, right._

A part of his mind knew that he was winding himself up, that it was probably nothing. The other, the insistent nag at his back of his head insisted that there was something very wrong about the whole situation.

"It's nothing," he said again, although he did not know who to.

-o0o-

Ed stopped in front of the apparently 'horseless' carriages to look at the strange creatures waiting patiently between the carriage shafts. They looked like ghosts, with bat like wings and bones jutting through a black coat like small mountains. Their eyes were white, staring and had no pupil and forcefully reminded Ed of Chimera's, although he knew in this world they didn't exist; well, not in the ones he knew. He looked to his side and saw Harry staring at them with a perplexed expression plastered on his face.

"What are they?" he asked. The only answer he got was puzzled glances.

"What?"

"There, the chi... horses, pulling the carriage," Ed answered, gesturing at the skeletal figures, vivid onyx against the black night.

"There's nothing there, Ed," Hermione said quietly, sharing the expressions of the people around her – concern, apprehension, fear but Harry looked at him, an almost relieved expression on his pale face.

"You can see them too?" he asked, voice low, as to not attract attention. Ed nodded, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly a soft voice called from behind them and they turned to see a clump of mattered blond hair – Luna.

"I can see them. You're as sane as I am." Somehow that wasn't as reassuring as the fact Harry could see them, but Ed assumed that it was unlikely that three people were having the same hallucination and therefore relaxed slightly. He would look into it later. If there were such things as invisibility cloaks in the magical world, surely partly invisible horses weren't that much of a big stretch?

Reaching out a hand, he patted the dusty coat. It was neither cold nor hot to the touch but a single shiver traced down his spine that had nothing to do with the frigid night air. The... _thing... _reacted little, blinking its large milky eyes and tipping its head to the ground. Al would love them. His adoration for animals, especially cats was infinite and warm, as strong as his kindness to humans (at least ones that weren't trying to kill him). Ed laughed lightly – Al, always trying to smuggle cats indoors by hiding them in his armour, always picking up strays. Suddenly, the soft stench of death, tangent and repulsive, reached his nose, breaking the moment and pulling him back to reality. He jerked his hand back quickly. Tears stung in his eyes but he blinked them back forcefully.

"Come on," he said, jumping in to the carriage with a little reluctance, being careful not to let the shadowy forms enter his field of vision.

"Where's pig?" Ron said.

"Pig?" Ed asked, confused.

"He's my owl," Ron answered, going red at the ears.

"You named your owl _Pig_," Ed exclaimed.

"Ginny named him Pig," Ron shot back hotly. "I wanted to name her something else but he'll only answer to that." Just then Ginny came with Hermione's cat, Crookshans and Luna appeared with Pig fluttering excitedly in his cage and the conversation was finished abruptly.

There was no sign of the white haired boy, Mal-something. Probably still winging about his nose, Ed thought darkly. Finally, the carriage jolted forward and they were off, swaying gentle from side to side as they clattered along the wet road. Ed kept his eyes on the line of dark trees either side of them, listening to the soft noises of a forest floating on the wind – the rustle of leaves, the crunch of twigs underfoot and the howl of distant animals. On the carriage Harry was talking about the creatures but nobody seemed to realise their existence. Ron thought Harry was mad, going by the tone of his voice. So only some people can see them, Ed thought. What was different about those people? Ed, Harry and Luna, an Alchemist from Amestris, a hero from the wizarding world and a slightly strange girl.

"Look the castle!"

The voice dragged his eyes upwards and as the sight hit him, Ed whistled softly. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an impressive building, to say the least, and Ed craned his neck to look closer at the vast expanse of stone that made the wall and the twisting torrents and towers. It was almost as big as the Central building, the monolithic building in the middle of Central city.

Ed thought he had been gasping far too much for his own good this month or so. However he couldn't help but do so when he saw the main hall. The ceiling was higher than imaginable and candles floated halfway up, illuminating the massive hall; involuntarily Ed stared thunderstruck at the ceiling that imitated the night sky outside perfectly.

"It's bewitched to look like that," Hermione whispered helpfully. When Ed managed to tear his eyes away from the amazing ceiling, he saw there were five long tables with four of them length ways, decorated with bright colours (red, yellow, blue and green) and one at the end, perpendicular to the rest where all the staff sat. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the table decorated with red and Ed followed.

"The sorting starts now. The first years are going to be sorted in to the houses – Gryffindor, that's us, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin," Hermione intoned. "I wonder how they'll sort you. You could just stay with us of course."

"Slytherins are all jerks," Ron hissed from next to Harry.

"Ron!" Hermione shushed. Smiling, Ed turned his attention back to the head table.

-o0o-

Recognising one of the people sitting on the staff table, Harry almost retched.

"It's that Umbridge woman," he whispered. When Ron, confused, asked who she was Harry told them she was at his trial. Umbridge was the woman who had had full support for Fudge when he tried to kick Harry out of Hogwarts. With a garish pink cardigan and sickening smile, she looked like a mixture between a toad and a woman; she even had a bow on the top of her head like a fly ready to be consumed.

"She works for Fudge," Harry added.

"She works for Fudge! No, surely not," Hermione muttered, studying the line of staff intently. She looked like she wanted to say something but they were distracted as a line of first years filed slowly in, led by Professor Grubby-Plank and it seemed that they were all terrified. A smile came to Harry's lips as he recalled when he was sorted, five years ago exactly.

Just as it happened every year, Professor McGonagall placed a stool with a very old wizard hat on the wooden top. The people in the hall waited patiently. Suddenly a tear near the brim of the hat opened and the hat burst out singing. The Sorting Hat's song was odd; every year it sang a song, explaining the qualities of each of the houses, but this year there was a cryptic message hidden behind the words – something about sticking together and being friends. The tattered hat, in Harry's memory, had never given such a message before. How they were expected to be friends with the Slytherins was beyond Harry? The rest of the school seemed to have noticed the difference too. As the school burst into applause there were whispers like wind throughout the hall.

"It's a bit different this year, isn't it," Ron said. Ed looked shocked and enraged but only muttered,

"A _hat! _Binding a soul to a _hat_…" However, as Professor McGonagall started reading names, the hall went into respectful silence.

'Abercrombie, Euan' was first. He looked utterly terrified as the hat was plopped on to his small head but soon a large shout from the hat announced he was in Gryffindor. Harry cheered with the rest of his year and the boy sat down at the table. Slowly the line of first years thinned out until there was none left and Dumbledore stood up to make a speech. After all the havoc and troubles over the summer – from the dementor attack to the appearance of Ed and finally the absence of Hagrid – this was something that was supposed to happen. Harry relaxed slightly.

"To the new comers, welcome. To our old hands, welcome back!" he said with his hands open wide and his eyes twinkling as he studied the four lines of students at their tables.

The students in the hall waited expectantly for the feast to begin but Dumbledore stood up and instead of starting the feast, he introduced Ed.

"Edward is a transfer student who was home schooled until now," he said smoothly, using the cover story he and Ed had come up with together (Harry doubted it would go down well if he announced Ed had come in a flash of light covered in blood), "Could you come here to be sorted please," Dumbledore asked. Ed made his way towards the Sorting Hat with the same vigorous confidence he always held, his head high and his pace leisurely but quick. Whispers erupted around the hall again, just as they had after the sorting hat's song, and eyes trained on him. Malfoy was muttering something to his friends; Harry had a feeling it wasn't pleasant from the glares that, for the first time, were not aimed at him but to Ed.

-o0o-

The Sorting Hat slipped over Ed's head and he heard a voice whispering somewhere next to his ear. He resisted the temptation to slap it.

"Ambitions, cunning, do anything to meet your ends. You would be a very good Slytherin don't you think. Intelligent too – a Ravenclaw trait. Loyal to your friends, hardworking – going all the way to Brig's to find May is proof enough - , my, my, aren't you a difficult one."

"They bound a soul to a hat!" Ed thought, repeating what he had said when he had first seen it.

"No, not quite; I'm quite happy here, you know. Ooh, brave, risk your life for friends. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor – honestly, you would be good in any."

"Not Slytherin," Ed whispered to himself, thinking of Malfoy and what Ron had said about the house. Gryffindor would be good. He had already made friends in that house and according to Truth he needed Harry if was going to get back to his own world.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"Never mind, you better be in: _GRYFFINDOR_!" The last word was so loud it left Ed's ears ringing. When Ed took off the hat, the whole Gryffindor table had erupted into thunderous applause and he made his way through the cheering students towards Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ed sat back down as the Headmaster stood up again.

"Without further ado, tuck in!" he said.

-o0o-

Harry grinned as suddenly food appeared out of nowhere on the golden plates that lined the tables. Ed seemed flabbergasted for a moment but seeing Ron piling food on to his place he followed suit. Hermione gave a small tut, looking at the less than respectable manner of eating the two were showing. Hunger growling expectantly in his stomach, Harry too started eating with gusto.

When Harry was feeling full, what was left of the meal disappeared, leaving pristine golden plates but it was soon replaced with dessert. Ron started eating again with the same enthusiasm as before and Harry tucked in too. Soon he was completely bursting and could eat no more; the dessert disappeared and Harry sighed, feeling content but tired. He could almost imagine the soft covers of his bed waiting upstairs in the Gryffindor dormitories; sleep – all he wanted to do was go to bed. Dumbledore's speech dwindled on (Hermione, Ron and Harry exchanged smirks when the headmaster stated clearly that the forbidden forest was out of bounds) but when he started to talk about quidditch tryouts, he stopped, looking back at the staff table.

Umbridge was standing up, though it wasn't very apparent at first - she was just as fat and dumpy sitting or standing because of her ridiculous, tiny legs – but with a small, girlish '_hem hem_'she smiled, indicating she was going to give a speech. Even the teachers, who are supposed to be composed, are sat in stunned silence. Nobody interrupted the headmaster's speech, but Umbridge didn't seem to know this.

"Thank you headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," she said; irritating, girly, high-pitched voice grating at Harry's nerves. Besides him, Ed grimaced noticeably.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts I must say!" Harry wondered if she was a magical experiment gone wrong – her teeth which were revealed when where smiled sickeningly, were unnaturally sharp.

"And to see such happy little faces looking at me." Strangely, none of the faces around her looked happy at all, more bemused and irritated at being talked to like a primary school kid.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" she continued, not noticing the discomfort of the students in front of her; be her friend, she had to be kidding. Ed erupted in to silent giggles and Umbridge glared in Harry and his friends' direction, malice leaking out of her, but composing herself, she took on a more businesslike manner.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gift…" At this point Harry zoned out as she began talking about progress and tradition or something.

"… and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited," Umbridge finished and sat.

When the speech ended the audience dutifully clapped, but it was half-hearted and most the students didn't clap at all, having dozed off halfway through the monotonous presentation. Dumbledore, standing up continued talking about quidditch tryouts.

"That was certainly illuminating," Hermione whispered darkly. Ed nodded, a confusing look of soft rage passing through his eyes.

"Don't tell me you enjoyed it! I thought it was the dullest speech I have ever heard and I lived with Percy," exclaimed Ron though he kept his voice quiet.

"She said illuminating, not enjoyable. It explained a lot actually," Ed interjected.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Sounded like a lot of old waffle to me."

"'Progress for progresses sake must be discouraged', 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'," Ed laughed dryly. "There was a lot of important stuff in the waffle; trust me, I know." His voice was hollow.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"It means…" Hermione whispered ominously, "The Ministry is going to interfere with Hogwarts."

-o0o-

The silence that followed the statement seemed to stretch out for an eternity. Hermione contemplated what she had said. She knew now with clear certainty that the Ministry was interfering with Hogwarts and that the toad like women, Professor Umbridge was involved, but she had no idea how it would happen. Hermione didn't like not knowing. Knowledge was the only weapon she had in the end. Finally, Hermione noticed that everybody around them was standing up to leave, and from that she deduced that the headmaster had finished his speech. Hermione stood up, suddenly frantic. As a prefect, she was supposed to show the first years where to go. She looked at Ron, still sitting down.

"Come on Ron! We're supposed to show the first years to the dormitory," she explained. Ron looked surprised, as though he had forgotten about it completely.

"Oh, yeah. Oi Midgets!" Hermione resisted the urge to slap him.

"Ron!"

"They are!" Hermione tried to ignore Ed's fuming face and steered Ron away. It would do to have a fight in the hall so early on. With a clear voice she called the first years to follow her and they came in a nervous line between the two tables. She glanced at Harry.

"I'll go ahead," he said. There was a curious expression on his face, one that settled between annoyance and pain. Hermione shook her head and pushed it out of her mind. He's had a difficult year, she thought. He just needs to rest.

"I'll go with him." A voice cut through the crowd and Hermione saw Ed jog a little to catch up with the black haired boy, already slipping past the crowd of students and making his way in to the quieter corridors.

-o0o-

It was really his fault for not realising this was going to happen, Harry thought bitterly as he stormed down the empty corridors. He should have realised, from the blatantly obvious hints that his friends tried to give him to the abnormal stares that had followed him on the train. Last year he had come back from the Tri-wizard tournament with Cedric Diggory's dead body and proclaimed that the dark lord had returned and now the Daily Prophet had pinned him as delusional liar. Nobody believed him - in fact everybody hated him - just because he had tried to tell the truth.

Harry turned round abruptly. He hadn't noticed the clanging foot steps behind him until now but at that moment they were painfully obvious. He gave a sigh of relief as he realised it was just Ed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"They think I'm a liar." Harry saw Ed frown. He was sure Ed had heard about the rise of Lord Voldemort from everybody around him at Grimwald place but not from Harry; he hadn't had time to tell him as they were busy clearing up and besides, Ed had practically locked himself in a room full of books.

"It's about…" Harry started to explain

"Voldemort. Yes, I know. Why do you think they think you're a liar?"

"I..." Harry didn't know what to say. It was so many things – the whispers in the halls, the stares, the cautiousness of his friends, as though he was a china doll ready to break.

"Ignore them." Ed's voice was overly forceful.

They looked at each other for a few awkward seconds, Ed staring with his intense golden glare whilst Harry wondered if he should say anything.

"I don't think you're a liar," Ed finally whispered quietly. Harry nodded.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

They made their way to the common room in silence. Neville had told them the password, 'Mimbulus mimbletonia', a magic plant (which explained why Neville, of all people, had been able to remember it). Lessons would start tomorrow. The room itself, draped in the bold Gryffindor colours of red and gold - to Ed's delight, it seemed - was deserted and quiet, punctuated by no noise other than the crackling of a fire dancing in the grate. They had taken a long time to get there, obviously. Harry felt the heat of it on his cheek as he walked passed to the long, winding stairs leading to the dormitory. It had been a long day. All Harry wanted to do know was sleep.

-o0o-


	5. First Lessons

**New chapter is up! Sorry it's a little late - I had computer issues. Anyway, please enjoy. (and please review^.^)**

**Nothing has changed other than a few spelling corrections! Just in case you were expecting something different. **

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><p><span>First Lessons<span>

The next morning, as expected (if there was one thing you could be sure about Malfoy was that he was a pompous a**hole through and through), Ed was called to the Professor McGonagall's office for attacking a Prefect. His and Ron's action caused the deduction of 20 house points from Gryffindor and a detention for Ed, although Harry noted that the strange magic that Ed had used was not mentioned. Either Malfoy hadn't noticed or obviously didn't like telling people he didn't understand. However the harsh truth was that it looked like Gryffindor was going to be in the minuses before the first day had even finished. Reactions among the Lion house were varied - from delightful glee that Malfoy had finally got what he deserved, to angry mutters at the amount of points lost for the house. The sudden fame of Edward Elric even radiated to the other classes, with similar, if more subdued reactions. Most people from other houses were also torn; nobody wanted Slytherin to win but the Gryffindors, the house in which every year that Harry had been there had kept the house cup firmly out the Slytherin's hands, was also preventing Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff from winning too.

Harry sighed and looked down at his plate of food. For breakfast he had gotten his usual meal of toast and butter, but now it didn't appeal to him. He could still feel the stares burning into his back and it left him nauseous and wary. If he could use the invisibility cloak to sink into the back ground during breakfast, he would.

A tap on his shoulder made him look up. Hermione was pointing behind him to Professor McGonagall, holding out a timetable and looking quite annoyed at being ignored. He apologised quietly and took it. As it was passed to him, Harry studied it carefully and then seeing what the day held, groaned.

"History of Magic, Double potions, Divination and Double Defence Against the Dark Arts; that's Snape, Trelawney, Binns and the toad woman in the same day!" Ron exclaimed.

"Is that bad?" asked Ed, who had suddenly turned to look at them. However much he tried not to show it, the yellow eyes always startled Harry in the most unexpected of moments. He wondered if he would ever get used to them. They were like molten gold, intense and burning.

Also the start of many nasty rumours too; not that Ed would care.

"Pretty bad," Harry said with a small nod. There was a stone in his stomach, the sort of clenching knot that let you know that something is going to go horribly wrong. Seeing the timetable, he knew the reason why. The look that Hermione passed him was scathing – the 'you can't insult a teacher' type - and feeling the need to do so, if only to make his point clear, he quickly moved to defend himself.

"They are!" he exclaimed. Hermione pursed her lips tightly. She was always the one defending teachers. In her first year, she had insisted that Snape _hadn't _tried to shake Harry off a broomstick fifteen feet in the air, and although that had turned out to be true, it didn't stop Snape from being the worst teacher in all of eternity.

"_They _are teachers," she said.

"You have to admit though, Snape is a nasty git." It seemed that Ron had decided the join the conversation and, spurred on with the extra support, Harry stood his ground. Sighing Hermione went back to studying her timetable with a ridiculous amount of seriousness. Beside her, Ed was stifling laughter.

-o0o-

Ron, after all his years at Hogwarts could not understand why they even bothered to teach History of Magic. It was boring, not helped by the fact it was taught by a ghost, and in Ron's opinion, completely and utterly useless. After all, he was not Hermione, able to be avidly taking notes on the bumbling lecture whilst everyone else was half asleep. It was better, in a way, then Potions.

"Late on your first lesson, Weasley..." There was a dramatic pause where Snape decided to add a sneer. "…Potter. Not a good first impression, is it? Hmm. Let's say: five points each from Gryffindor for your tardiness."

Right back in first year, in fact even before then, Ron had been warned by his older siblings of the grudge that the Potion's professor held against Gryffindors. However being warned was not enough to prepare him for the hour of snide remarks and sneers or for the utterly prejudice opinion that he held for his best friend, Harry. As he stepped, once again, in to the dark dungeon where the Potion lesson was being held, the hate that Ron held for this particular teacher flared brightly again. If this was how Ron felt, he didn't even want to consider what Harry had to put up with every lesson. With shoulder length, greasy black hair, Professor Snape was like a snarling, snivelling, overgrown bat. Knowing it was best to say nothing, Harry and Ron gave a quick, 'sorry sir' before sitting down.

"I assume Elric hasn't bothered to come. Little surprise, all the Gryffindors are the same – lazy, irresponsible," Snape continued and the Slytherin half of the classroom erupted into sniggers. Ron gritted his teeth and kept his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. There was a small stain on the brown surface, a patch darker than the rest of the table. It was an extremely interesting stain; a little discoloured to the green side, unlike the other smudges that covered the wood. Maybe there had been a spillage...

"Sorry I'm late, Sir."

Ron looked up in surprise to see blond boy standing in the doorway. Snape paused midsentence of his lecture and looked too, his lips curling in disdain. Ed - they had been looking for him, which was why they were late in the first place, and had thought he had gotten himself lost.

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Stop interrupting my lesson, Elric, and sit down!" Snape hissed, slamming his hand on the table. Ed paused for a second; there was an odd expression in his face, half thoughtful, half amused. Ron recognised it. It was the Fred and George expression. Hermione was shaking her head desperately. Ron could almost see what she was trying to say – 'don't do anything stupid, you'll lose more points'.

Ed chose the seat next to Harry and sat down. The lesson continued.

Ron was just starting to stir his potion, using the tip of his wand to swirl the thick, steaming liquid clockwise in a slow, methodical movement, when a bang erupted from the Slytherin side of the classroom. He looked up, making sure his wand was out of the potion before doing so, and saw, to his surprise, Malfoy looking sheepishly at growing puddle of steaming potion. Snape looked at him, livid. Ron was quite surprised. The expression was usually reserved for Gryffindors. However, a moment later, the Potion's master had forced his expression into a calmer one.

"I assume you stirred in the wrong direction?"

"I... I..." Malfoy stammered pathetically. "Somebody jinxed it!" Snape waved his wand over the spot where Malfoy stood.

"There is no sign of a jinx. You will need to start again, Malfoy," he said, coldly. Ron couldn't help but notice Ed giggling uncontrollably over his potion.

As the lesson progressed, it became increasingly apparent that Slytherin luck had left the room. Accidents, spillages and mysteriously swapping ingredients plagued the house of snakes until Snape was fuming. He wasn't one to tolerate mistakes but neither was he willing to take points off of his own house.

Finally, as the bell signifying the end of the lesson went with a shrill ring, Ed handed in his perfect, transparent potion and handed it to the glowering professor with a satisfied smile. Snape's expression was tight, as though he had eaten something sour. Ron filled a vial of his potion (a thick liquid in a slightly disturbing shade of brown) and passed it to the teacher, whose face relaxed somewhat and transformed in to a smirk. The smile, gloating and nasty as it already was, widened as it reached Harry.

"What is this?"

"Drought of Peace, Sir," Harry replied, quietly. Ron distinctively saw Hermione wince as she spotted the greyish liquid, looking up from her potion, which was, as expected, identical in colour to Ed's.

"This, Potter, isn't worth marking. Let me clear up this mess." Snape flourished his wand upwards, and as it flew swiftly over Harry's potion the whole mixture disappeared, leaving a spotless but empty cauldron. With a swoop of his midblock robes he walked away, leaving Harry standing, his face burning.

"Come on," Ron said. "It's lunch." It was totally unfair, he figured. Harry's potion was better than Crabbe or Goyle or even _his _failure, and yet it was the only one Snape had vanished. The man was plain evil and obviously in league with You-Know-Who. According to Fred and George, he should have been sacked years ago. Ron, quite frankly agreed; whether he was in the Order of not.

-o0o-

Ed found that the Potions lesson was surprisingly similar to alchemy – mixing ingredients. They say the origins of Alchemy are a kitchen, after all. However the lack of scientific sense everything made irritated the blond boy to no bound. Coming to Hogwarts as a student, however, was a grievous mistake. The lesson's were boring (although he had only been to two) and the greasy haired one who had been an utter annoyance during his stay at Grimwald place was apparently teaching Potions, the only lesson in which Ed saw a fair amount of potential. At least he had had fun playing tricks on the Slytherins. It was surprising how far the simple charms could go if used with a little imagination. He left in a hurry and, eating a quick lunch in the main hall, headed to the library.

When he finally entered the tall room full of old books, so quiet he could hear the beat of his own heart, he smiled to himself; the old man had not lied. It was quite impressive. Glancing towards the desk, he saw that the librarian was not there, probably sorting books further in. He passed the gap between the entrance of the library and the shelves as quickly and as silently as possible. Tracing one finger along the rough spines he walked through the aisle he breathed in deeply the scent of old parchment of dust. He was finally in his element.

Ed spent most of lunch time in the library, searching in vain for any reference to alchemy. There was none about the alchemy Ed knew, only some useless drabble about creating gold. Even Nicholas Flamel, 'Dumbledore's friend' as Hermione put it, seemed to be barking up the wrong tree half the time. Ed knew how to get to the gate, but to pass through he needed a sacrifice and by the sounds of it, one that was powerful enough to bypass worlds – something that was unheard of. There was magic though, the unknown factor, and Ed had yet to find out how it worked. _You will need him to get home._ Truth had meant magic. Ed was surer of this than anything, although that in itself was not very impressive – if it was just as simple as attempting human transmutation on himself as he had done to escape Gluttony then Ed wouldn't be going through this agony – but without a sacrifice. The philosopher's stone had been destroyed. If he had to use a human life then he would rather stay here. However if magic could bypass equivalent exchange, then there had to be another answer.

Divination was next. Ed really did not feel like going.

_Missing one lesson won't hurt, _he thought as the bell rang.

After History of Magic, when he was trying to find the potions classroom, he had stumbled on a disused classroom. Ed entered it now still carrying his assortment of books that he had borrowed from the library, studying the old wooden tables, scattered in front of the dusty blackboard. It would do, he thought. Now he had somewhere to experiment. Looking up silencing spells was easy. He did so and cast them, along with a variety of other charms.

Checking his silencing spells around the classroom were secure, he clapped his hands together. With a sharp intake of breath, he slammed it against the table. The noise resounded with a dull thud but there was no reaction. Ed let out a sigh.

What was different about the Hogwarts Express? Was it the location? It couldn't be. They had been moving the whole time. Maybe the location they _weren't _in? Maybe magic interfered?

He didn't know.

Ed assumed he could always get out of Hogwarts to see if that made a difference, but for now he wanted to try something else. He recalled the incident carefully, dissecting each frame bit by bit. The rise of the fist, Ron's expression of shock. The moment of panic, anger...

Anger.

Magic reacted to emotions, right? Ed wasn't sure, but it was a place to start. He focused on the anger, let it blossom in his chest, he thought of Pride and Envy, he thought of Bradley and Scar. That moment in the alley when everything was slowing down bit by bit, when everything seemed hopeless and his mind whirling but his body not catching up. The shiny sheen of sunglasses reflecting his own terrified expression back at him.

He hung on to the feeling, let it expand, fill him.

He clapped his hands together. And he pushed. Not literally, but _magically. _As though he was casting a spell – he let the energy rise up in his body, tingle through his fingers and be expelled outwards. Then brought his hands down on to the table with a bang.

His vision erupted blue. It was so sudden and surprising Ed almost lost his concentration, but he hung on, letting the wood disintegrate slowly then pushed it in the right direction, in the way he wanted. It was easier then he thought it would be, but a little wilder and harder to control. Looking down, Ed studied his handiwork. It was a small bird, perched in a crater, seamlessly scraped out from the wood. A few flecks of rectangular imperfection adorned the base – the classical signs of a transmutation.

The second time didn't work. The relief had been so overwhelming his concentration was completely ruined. The third time was little better. Finally he fourth went alright. He experimented until he was dizzy with exertion – different materials, different emotions. It was still scratchy. Fifty-fifty chances, mostly, and he still needed a long time to gather his focus and his emotion. The success rate was rising though, hopefully.

What felt like hours later, the bell shocked him out of his bout of concentration. It was Defence Against the Dark Arts and although he wasn't looking forward to it but he figured missing two lessons was going a bit far.

-o0o-

_A Return to basic Principles; _Harry read what was on the board with barely concealed disgust – not necessarily at what was on the board, but the pink clad witch in front of it. Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly at the class.

"Well, your teaching has been rather fragmented, with less than exemplary teachers," Professor Umbridge started. "So therefore we will be following a carefully constructed, ministry approved curriculum. Copy the following, please." She tapped the board with her unusually short wand and the text was replaced with 'Course aims'. Gritting his teeth, Harry got his quill out and scratched out the three sentences.

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

When everyone had finished she smiled at them again and asked if she had the right book. A small mourner of assent rose in the classroom but Umbridge tutted, again.

"Now, now; that won't do will it. When I ask a question, I would like you to say 'yes Professor Umbridge' or 'no Professor Umbridge'," she stated. She asked the question again and _Yes, Professor Umbridge_ rang through the class. Next to Harry, Ed remained stubbornly silent. Harry could understand how he felt – he refused to be treated like a five year old. It might have been because she was at his trial, but Harry could feel nothing but strong dislike for this woman, and every second he stayed near her only enforced it. Unfortunately, however much Harry hated her, he knew in his head he couldn't afford to get in trouble and slowly opened the appropriate page. He took a side long glance at Ed. He had taken one look at the board, then the book before scoffing and crossing his arms. This was the third lesson he had completely zoned out of.

After a few minutes, it became apparent that not everyone was reading the assigned chapter. Ed, like in most the other lessons, was half asleep; Ron was fiddling with his quill. However, Harry was surprised to see that the usually studious Hermione, who until now had sat frowning at the board, had not even opened her book and her hand was high in the air. Umbridge ignored her. Harry tipped her head slightly in enquiry but Hermione looked at him and shook her head, indicating that she wasn't going to answer questions yet. A few more minutes passed, each second feeling heavy and as long as an eternity. More and more people were staring openly at Hermione and her mute, one sided staring contest with Professor Umbridge who was resolutely looking everywhere but at her. Even Ed had decided to wake up and stare at the dead still hand stretched in to the air. After a while, Umbridge could ignore her no longer.

"Do you have a question about the chapter, dear?" she asked

"It's not about the chapter…" Hermione stated and seemed to want to say more but was interrupted.

"Then any queries can be asked at the end of the class," Umbridge said, smiling.

"It's about the course aims." Umbridge raised her perfectly rounded eyebrows giving her the look of a demented clown.

"Miss…"

"Granger, Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, the course aims are quite clear, if you read them carefully," said Umbridge, giving a soft tickling laugh that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"There's nothing about _using_ defensive spells," Hermione stated. There was a short amount of silence as Umbridge's eyes bulged and Harry looked back at the board to verify the fact. He gripped the table hard when he realised his friend was right – there was nothing there about using defensive spells. This time Umbridge's laugh sounded forceful and oddly disjointed.

"Why, Miss Granger would young children such as yourselves need to _use_ defensive spells. Surely, you don't expect to be attacked in my class."

"So we aren't using magic?" Ron interjected and Umbridge spun round to face.

"I expect your hand to be up when asking a question, Mr -?"

"Weasley," he said, and immediately put his hand up. Umbridge ignored him. Dean's hand was in the air and Umbridge turned to him, pausing slightly at Harry whose temper was rising steadily.

"What's the point of Defence against the Dark Arts if we aren't going to use defensive spells?" he asked. Umbridge's frog like smile widened.

"It is not up to you to decide what the 'point' of this class is," Umbridge stated sweetly. At this point Harry thrust his hand in the air, having had enough. Ed was glaring silently. "I understand you have had, less then exemplary teachers, including extremely half breeds…"

"If you mean Lupin, he was the best we had," Dean shouted, rather loudly but was interrupted by an equally loud,

"Your hand is not up!"

"As long as you learn the theory correctly, there is no way you should not be able to do the spell. You will perform defensive spells in a safe, risk free environment," Umbridge finished

"Well if we're attacked it won't be in a…" Harry interjected. Umbridge's eyes bulged again.

"Hand, Mr Potter!"

"So the first time we do the spell will be in the examination, without practicing beforehand?" Parvati asked.

"As I said, as long as you understand the theory well enough…"

A resounding thud echoed across the classroom and suddenly it was dead quiet.

"What's the use of theory in the real world?" somebody said loudly. Umbridge looked immediately to Harry, but Harry was sitting with his hand still in the air, his mouth shut. She then spotted Ed standing up with his chair on the floor beside him, his golden eyes blazing. Harry put his hand down. He had seen Ed angry, but not like this.

"Sit down Mr Elric," Umbridge instructed, seemingly oblivious to the danger. Ed didn't sit. Umbridge's smile disappeared slightly but quickly returned again.

"What do mean the real world?" Ed's hands were clenched tightly in to fists and they were shaking with rage.

"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW OF THE REAL WORLD? YOU'VE NEVER LOST SOMEONE YOU LOVE, BLAMED YOURSELF FOR THEIR DEATH! YOU'VE NEVER HAD MASS-MURDERERS AFTER YOU AND PEOPLE THREATENING YOUR FRIENDS AND BLACKMAILING YOU TO DO THEIR DIRTY WORK!" he shouted and for the first time Umbridge looked properly taken aback.

"De…Detention Mr Elric."

"Dishing out detentions won't protect us against what's waiting out there!" Harry decided to contribute.

"Nothing is waiting out there, Mr Potter," Umbridge said, her attention now on Harry.

"Hmm… I don't know. What about, Lord Voldemort." There was silence again. Umbridge looked gleeful. She leaned over the desk, hands in front of her, her sickening smile having returned to her face.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter; now be quiet." Umbridge turned to the class, slowly with deliberate sweetness. "You have all been told that a certain dark wizard has come back from the dead. This is a lie."

"It's not a lie!" Harry shouted standing up. "I saw him, I fought him."

"Detention for you too, Potter." The toad resumed her lecture.

"The Ministry of Magic assures you, you are all safe. Now if anyone is still worried, please contact me outside lesson time. If any student terrorising the school population by saying a dark wizard has returned, I would like to hear about it. Now continue reading chapter one, 'Basic for beginners' please. Potter, Elric, come here."

Grudged, the two made their way to the front. Seamus, who until now had been utterly silent, looked at the two oddly, half scared and half bemused whilst the rest of the class had faces ranging between shock and concern. Umbridge took a piece of parchment out of her hand bag and, dipping her quill in the ink pot, quickly scribbled down two notes. She tapped it with her wand and sealed them before handing them to the waiting boys.

"Take these to Professor McGonagall, dears," she said and they took them, not saying a word and in a mechanical, synchronised fashion, walked out the classroom, taking care to slam the door shut behind them.

-o0o-


	6. Detention with Cats and Toads

**New chapter is up; it's a longer chapter than I usually write and I hope you like it. Special thanks to** **Evinco who really helped with ideas for this chapter as well as for coming chapters. **

**Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome!**

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><p><span>Detentions with Cats and Toads<span>

Ed had somehow managed to get two detentions in one day: one from McGonagall and the other from the toad of a woman called Umbridge. He admitted that it was an alright record - for his trouble making reputation at the very least. School was still a strange thing to Ed, since he had left his own school back in Resembool early to learn alchemy and, anyway, that one had been a very small school compared to Hogwarts and not even half as grand. However, first impressions were _not_ good; most of it was either monotonous and a complete waste of time – why anyone wanted to know why the goblin rebellions happened was beyond Ed - or taught by rubbish teachers.

The first detention was Tuesday at 6:00pm with Filch, the caretaker and the second, every day for an entire week from Umbridge which he shared with Harry. He was not looking forward to either.

On top this, it was mostly Ed's fault that Gryffindor was presently in the minuses (only by a little, Ed countered), along with the fact he was Harry's friend, - who many people had sourly stated they thought was a liar, including a Gryffindor in their year called Seamus - and therefore he was the most susceptible to being hexed in the corridors. It was getting from mildly annoying to a little problematic. Getting to class with your feet stuck together is quite difficult, Ed had found out. The 'transfer student' façade was still safe though, which was a miracle seeing how transparent it was.

The result was high strung tensions within the friendship group. Ed was the oddity, foreigner, and however much the trio hated to admit it, they were wary of him. Hermione seemed exasperated constantly, Harry a little bemused and Ron furious (and a little jealous) that somebody had taken their spotlight, but by now, Ed was used to this mixture of emotions.

Bad stalking, however … not really.

He wished they would stop or at the very least be subtle. An invisibility cloak doesn't really work when you were making as much noise as stampeding elephants. He wasn't trying to hide anything too serious, honest to God (if there was one). He realised a boy falling from a different world not willing to explain where he came from was suspicious, but... Oh well, Ed thought. He had been friends with Chimera's and a (ish) friend to a mass murderer, he was sure he could manage these particular wizards.

The second day was undeniably better then the first. Herbology was interesting and Care of Magical Creatures not bad at all. The only down point was Transfigurations - the topic had been entirely ruined for the golden haired boy when he had found out, back in Grimmauld place that they transfigured animals (live ones, which he point blank refused to do anything to) so settle for the more monotonous task of turning wood in to metal and back again. He was still furious, underneath, but he restrained his anger as much as possible. Still, a little seeped out, resulting in the rest of the class being confused at the tangible trails of anger around Ed.

Every bit of spare time that presented itself to Ed, he could be found in the library, trying to find any reference of how to get home. He concentrated on any magic that seemed relevant to travel, such as apparition and any reference to inter-dimensional travel. The search had not revealed any revelations so far, but Ed had stored quite a few notes for further reference.

Ed enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures, if only for the fact he could concentrate of other things whilst doing quick sketches of the animal they were studying. He had never been fond of animals, especially dogs and magical or not, that feeling had not changed. He could sketch though, after all the years of writing tedious notes for alchemy (it was quite essential in science to do sketches quickly, so he finished that before anyone). However the lesson seemed to be a reason for concern for his three friends, due to the fact Hagrid, who Ed now knew was the Keeper of the Keys, wasn't there to take the lesson as he usually did.

It was evening before he knew it.

Dinners had now become a strange, if not dangerous routine - entering the great hall and dodging a curse, checking his food wasn't laced with poison, more likely pranks, and then trying not to blow up when the badly concealed whispers entered his ears (really, he wondered how Harry was surviving as it seemed most of them were directed at the Boy-Who-Lived).

"Attention seeking…"

"He really thinks he duelled with You-Know-Who?"

"Seriously! Who would believe…?"

"Shorty." He really did blow up at the last statement. He doubted Gryffindor would recover from the number of points he managed to lose. Thankfully, Umbridge wasn't there to give him further detentions.

The first detention went smoothly. Polishing school plaques, although tedious, was not difficult.

Ed finished off his essays that were set as homework quickly, without bothering to take much time on any of them. Apparently they had been set a dream diary by Trelawney but he ignored the task. In his opinion, divination was a complete waste of time (why bother trying to see the future when you can forge your own path); he hoped that he could talk to one of the teachers and see if he could change to another subject as Hermione had done.

The Toad was the latest bane of Ed's life. Harry almost had to physically drag him out of the common room when it was time, and even then he genuinely wondered whether he should make a break for it; he had agreed to be a student and he realised the importance of acting like one but attending Umbridge's detention was simply very demeaning to his ego.

Ed split up with Harry on the pretence of needing the toilet, having decided that, if anything, he was going to be annoying and arrive late. As he meandered down to the third floor, dragging his heavy, black boots as much as possible on the stone tiles, a grey flicker by the window caught Ed's attention. Narrowing his eyes and looking carefully, he saw that it was a translucent ghost in the shape of a small boy, smearing thick black ash on one of the windows. His dusty outline was clearly visible against the dying light streaming through.

Unfortunately it was clear who he was. Ed didn't know a name, but he had been warned of this particular poltergeist. Ignoring him best as possible, Ed walked past.

"Eddie, Eddie. Shortie Eddie." Ed spun round, a vein pulsing in his forehead. The ghost definitely knew how to push buttons.

"Don't you dare call me short!" he growled.

"Shortie, shortie Eddie!" the half transparent ghost replied. He was asking for a fight.

_Fine_, Ed thought in livid reply.

Ed could really not be bothered. He was annoyed, irritated and in a really-not-looking-forward-to-this-detention mood. Slapping his hands together, he transmuted his trademark stone hand to slap him out of the air. It was a brilliant success, maybe a little lopsided from the lack of effort put into it, but that was to be expected. Of course, it didn't do the usually intended effect on a ghost, but the thing was so surprised it gave him enough of a distraction for Ed to run down the corridor.

As he reached the Defence Against the Dark Art's teacher's office, Ed opened the door with a dramatic bang, cutting Umbridge off midsentence. Ignoring the look of shock on her chubby face, Ed gave a flashing smile usually only reserved for when he bested Mustang.

"Sorry I'm late!" Ed vaguely realised he had said exactly the same thing to Snape.

-o0o-

Harry had seen this office for three teachers and each time it had changed. Lockhart had decorated his with smiling portraits of himself, Lupin's had tanks full of strange creatures, many of which appeared in the lesson, whilst fake Mad-Eye Moody had a full range of dark detectors lined up against the wall. However, Harry had never, in his life, felt so surprised and repulsed at seeing an office.

Cats. Cats everywhere. He was drowning in cats. Ridiculously pink lace and frills scarred his vision and mewing cats stared down at the two repulsed boy from hundreds of plates in organised lines on the wall, some of them licking their fur whilst others played with cotton; Harry resisted the urge to be sick – he had seen enough cats at Ms Fig's to last him a life time. It was worse than Lockheart and that, quite frankly was saying something. Professor Umbridge was sitting at her desk, short, stubby wand held daintily in front of her as she smiled her toad like smile.

"Good evening, Mr Potter, Mr Elric." There was silence. Professor Umbridge raised an eyebrow.

"Good evening, Professor Umbridge," he intoned blandly. Ed's reply sounded more like: goo eve pro umbich, but Harry ignored it. Ed looked over to the wooden table, draped with yet more intricate frills, which had two blank pieces of parchment placed carefully on either side, in front of two chairs. Without being told, he sat down.

"Do sit down, Mr Potter," Umbridge said, smiling. Harry sat down nervously on the chair set out for him.

Harry took a deep breath in before letting it back out. Quidditch tryouts – Angelia had asked him to skip detention no matter what so that he could be there.

"I was wondering… if I could go… if I could ask whether…" Umbridge's bulged. "…if I could skip detention on Friday. You see seeker in the Gryffindor team and I need to be at… the… tryouts." Harry could already tell that he had lost. There was no way Umbridge would let him have any sort of favours. Just as predicted, her smile got, if it was physically possible, wider, as though she had heard something delightful.

"Oh, no, no, Mr Potter. This is your punishment for spreading nasty, misleading, attention seeking lies and it cannot be changed for your _convenience,_" she said, giggling a sharp, girly giggle. Harry had the urge to slap her. She thought he was attention seeking – in truth, Harry had enough of fame. It had only brought him misery so far and he had a feeling it would not get any better. If he could through away fame, then he would do so any day. _Attention seeking_. Harry was only trying to tell the truth.

Harry looked at her face. She was still smiling but there was a malicious glint in her eyes as though she was just waiting for another excuse to punish him. With tremendous effort, he tore his eyes away from her and sat heavily down on a seat opposite Ed. Ed looked at Harry with a sympathetic smile.

"You will be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter, Mr Elric. You will write: 'I must not tell lies'"

"I haven't brought a quill," Ed interjected before she could continue.

"Oh, Mr Elric, you won't be needing a quill," Umbridge laughed. Harry quickly withdrew his hand that was already in his bag, rummaging for a quill. "You will use some special ones of mine." Harry contemplated whether he should have slapped her. She reached in to her own bag and drew out two sharp, black quills and passed them to the two boys.

"We don't have any ink," Ed stated slowly, as though explaining to a child.

"You won't be needing ink." Umbridge's smile never left her face, like it was painted on her face with thick paint and Harry shivered at the image of what he would find underneath it.

Carefully placing the point of the unnaturally sharp quill on the yellow parchment, Harry wrote _I must not tell lies_. Sharp pain hit Harry hard, and he suppressed as gasp. As Umbridge had said, they did not need ink, as the words were traced out by glowing red ink but identical words had appeared on the back of his right hand, cut in to his skin. Even as he watched, the skin healed over the words, leaving it red but smooth. An identical intake of breath sounded next to him. Ed's face was terrifying; a mixture of pure disgust and hate but the toad was impassive. She waited for a reaction, a sign that her punishment hurt. A satisfaction Harry was not going to give her. Defiantly, Harry placed the quill on the parchment again and wrote the phrase. Opposite him, Ed did the same.

-o0o-

Hermione Granger was known for being intelligent. The phrase 'know it all' was not pleasant, but the message it conveyed was clear enough, even for those who didn't have Hermione's intellect. So it was natural for her to be annoyed when she didn't know something, as was the case with a certain Edward Elric.

She had nothing against Ed himself; he was arrogant and rude at times, not to mention highly disrespectful to superiors but that was the same with Hermione's other friends (although she would hardly mention that to their faces) No, it was the mystery that surrounded the boy from 'Amestris' wherever that was. Even though it seemed as though everybody else had forgotten it, with Umbridge and all, she still remembered the train incident quite clearly and deduced that it was a magic like nothing Hermione had ever seen. Or in fact, any wizard has seen, going from the lack of mention in the library. It was either that or it was dark magic that so evil that the library did not have it. Ed was a nice boy and, however rude, kind at heart so Hermione was not inclined to believe the latter.

'Amestris'. No mention of that either, on any map. Cross referencing the information presented to her, Hermione could only deduce he was from a different world. 'Looking for his brother' Harry had said. 'Needed to get home'. It fitted. Ed was a person from a different world. He was stuck and was looking for a way home.

He had called it Alchemy. The trio had run in to Alchemy back in first year but that was nothing like the trick that Ed had shown in the train. Scouring the library had, for the first time in Hermione's memory, done her no good. But she would get to the bottom of this mystery, no matter what. She hated not knowing. Harry had informed both her and Ron that Dumbledore wanted them to be subtle. Hermione would have to be careful then, as subtlety was certainly not her strong point. The first step would be to gain Ed's trust, which meant that they mustn't spy on him, at least not obviously, for the time being. Whatever had happened to him still hurt him, she could tell, so they needed to be careful about how to ask. When he was ready, Hermione would find out what 'Alchemy' is.

Maybe it would even help to defeat Voldemort.

Hermione sighed. She was honestly thinking too deeply. She still had homework to do and Harry still hadn't come back from detention. Dipping her quill in ink, she started her potions' essay.

-o0o-

Ed fumed as he stomped down the corridor, destination already in mind. The castle was primarily deserted so late at night and there was nothing moving other than himself and the flickering shadows cast by moonlight streaming in through the windows. Finally he made it to the stone gargoyle where the headmaster's office was situated.

"Open," he commanded gruffly. It needed a password, apparently.

"Damn it! I need to talk to Dumbledore!" he shouted at the gargoyle, looking stolidly forward towards the opposite wall. Ed could swear it was mocking him. He kicked it. His toe hurt. Sighing heavily, Ed contemplated whether he should use his alchemy and turn the stupid thing to scrap.

"And what would a young man like you be doing here at this time of night?"

The elderly but kind voice made Ed jump and he spun round so quickly he almost bashed his nose against the man standing there, he blue eyes twinkling out of a lined face. The head had been so quiet, Ed hadn't heard him coming.

"I _need _to talk to you," Ed stated, emphasising the 'need'. Dumbledore opened his mouth as though to say something but took one look at Ed's livid face and nodded, gesturing towards the gargoyles.

"In my office," he said.

Ed entered the office stomping, taking one look around the various trinkets around the room before dragging a chair out and sitting heavily down. Dumbledore, who had entered the room in front of him, walked behind his desk and also settled down, leaning forwards on his hands and staring at Ed with an all-seeing stare over his half-moon spectacles. Ed did not look away.

"Would you like a lemon sherbet?" Dumbledore offered but Ed shook his head.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, realising the young alchemist would not be the one to break the tense silence. At those words, Ed started his rant.

"BLOOD QUILLS!" he roared. "THAT _TOAD _IS USING BLOOD QUILLS ON _STUDENTS!_ DID YOU EVEN _CHECK _TO SEE IF THE NEXT PERSON YOU EMPLOY IS A LUNATIC?" Dumbledore remained impassive, looking at Ed with a mixture of kind curiosity and teacher like reassurance – considerate, understanding and collected.

"Mr Elric… Edward, I assure you…" he started, heavy grief flooding his voice as though the whole world was his responsibility (he probably felt it was) and felt truly sorry for what had occurred. However Ed was not finished.

"She can't _teach! _We aren't learning anything! She's spreading misleading information! She's…"

"I'm sorry, Edward, but the Minister has insisted, threatened even, the Umbridge is to stay in school. We cannot go against her without declaring war on the Ministry." How the old man managed to keep calm was beyond Ed.

"YOU AREN'T TRYING ANYTHING! _BLOOD QUILLS _ARE ILLEGAL! SUE HER!"

"The Order is doing everything in our power to make the Minster see the truth." Dumbledore sighed. "For now, we must have patience, else it will be our downfall." Ed was still fuming, brimming to argue: how wrong it was, what needed to be changed.

"Edward, it is for the greater good." With those words, the bubbling fury within Ed detonated.

"DON'T. YOU. DARE. TALK ABOUT THE _GREATER GOOD_!" Ed's lips curved upwards into a snarl and anger burned, white hot across his head.

Why? Why did it always start with this?

The 'Greater Good'. Out of his better judgement, Ed found a cold and bitter laugh force itself out of his throat. Fifty million people had nearly died for Father's and, by extension, the government's demented idea of a 'Greater Good', thousands of others dead in preparation. Ishval was only one of many. The 'Greater Good' ignored the needs of individuals, the 'Greater Good' led to sacrifices too big to justify.

Dumbledore seemed a little surprised at the outburst but composed himself quickly.

"We are doing everything we can, Mr Elric," he said. The headmaster's voice had gotten colder and more authorities, the warm undertone gone completely. Ed's breathing was ragged. He had stood up without noticing and his chair was on the floor by him, lying on its side. Bending down, Ed picked it up slowly.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked. Ed was about to shake his head but changed his mind last minute.

"I need oil, for my automail," Ed explained and with a short pause added, "my leg." The rage had entirely left his voice but a little hostility remained. Dumbledore nodded.

"There is a trip to the nearby village, Hogsmead, coming up. I will ask McGonagall to sign a slip for you. I am sure you can get anything you need there. If not, you may order it." Ed nodded. Standing up he headed for the door.

"And Edward?" He turned round, fixing a golden stare onto the headmaster. "Look out for Harry." Ed slammed the door behind him.

The poltergeist, called Peeves apparently, was back again, this time with a bucket full of chalk as artillery. Ed sighed.

"Get out of my way," he said gruffly.

"Shan't until you say pleeaaase!" Ed paused for a second, breathing in deeply to calm himself. His hand ached.

"Please."

"Ha! You don't mean it!" Peeves shouted, unexplained glee in his voice. He chucked the bucket at Ed and glided away, whooping and singing '_shortie, shortie Eddie'_ on the top of his voice. Ed held his arm up but the flying chalk was already everywhere, scattered on the floor beside him and covering his clothes and white powder. Looking down, Ed winced at the chalk stains all over his black and red school robe. He was beginning to like it (mainly because of the colour).

"You should really be going back to your dormitory."

Ed looked up to see another ghost, a woman this time, floating halfway between the floor and the ceiling. She wore a faded robe that might have been a forget-me-not-blue at one point but had turned to a stormy grey and over it cascaded light coloured hair down to her waist, floating in an invisible wind. There was a solemn air to her, floating about her wavering form in tangible waves. Ed felt a shiver run down his spine.

"He is really, quite a nuisance, isn't he?" she gestured towards the corridor where Peeves had gone down. "Are you alright, Mr Alchemist." The phrase was said with kindness but the message underneath, however unintentional, was so unexpected Ed nearly stumbled back a pace.

_Truth, at the gate. 'Mr Al-che-mist.'_

"H… how do you know?" He hadn't told anyone, other than the people in the carriage and even then that was a half-truth (the alchemy here wasn't like _his_). The way this ghost said it, it was like she knew everything.

"A long time ago, I met a man like you. A certain Mr Hohenheim." Ed felt like he had been punched hard in the gut.

"How…?" he called out, but the ghost had gone.

_Ghosts. _How could a soul survive without a body? _It's magic, _a part of his mind said. The other part of his mind, the part that disagreed frantically every time somebody used the rather lame excuse, was disgusted at himself for such an unscientific thought and he mentally slapped himself.

Thoughts swirled. Hohenheim had been here at some point. He had talked to this strange woman, either when she was alive or dead. Did that mean his father had been in Hogwarts? That itself was strange and otherworldly enough.

But there was one more overriding fact that left Ed breathless, so full of buzzing hope he could barely think straight. If his father could cross worlds and find his back to Amestis…

_A way home exists._

-o0o-


	7. The Promotion of Dolores Umbridge

**New chapter! I'm going on holiday so sadly I won't be able to write next week. I hope you enjoy it. Please review. **

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><p><span>The Promotion of Dolores umbridge<span>

The first slither of a warning came from Percy, which was quite frankly a miracle in itself. Ron knew that Percy had been a git for most of his life, but it seemed that this year he was intent of showing it to the world. He had disowned his family, insulted Dumbledore and more importantly, in Ron's opinion, Harry. Ron could take the fact everybody now thought Harry was an unbalanced liar. In the end, they were little more than strangers. It was the fact that the Ministry had managed to turn the people they were close to, first Seamus and then his brother (he admitted grudged), against him that hurt. Percy had known Harry for four years, stayed in the same tent and even praised him on a number of occasions. Now he was saying he was dangerous.

The latest letter from his elder brother was thrown quickly in to the fire.

But at the very least the letter had served the unintentional purpose of warning them of the ministry's next step. _'Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over'. _The message was ominous. It was one that even Ron couldn't miss - Fudge had finally decided to wage his war on Dumbledore and keep him from telling the truth for good.

So it really was to be no surprise when the next edition of the _Daily Prophet_'s front page had the toad's large, smiling face sprawled all over it with the bold headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED

FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITER

"High Inquisitor?" Ed asked aloud at the dinner table, eyebrows knitting together into a scrawl. He scanned the printed text of black and white critically, his frown getting deeper as he did so.

"What does it say?" Ron asked, finishing his pumpkin juice with a gulp.

Hermione took the paper into her hands and read the article underneath it out loud and everyone's face only darkened as the story went on. It seemed that now Umbridge had the power to inspect other teacher to make sure they were 'up to standard', suspending them if need be. By that, Ron assumed with growing suspicion, it meant quite clearly: not a friend of Dumbledore. Ed quickly voiced the opinion.

"Maybe she's a Death Eater?" Harry sighed, looking at the sweet smile with a disgust written on his face. "She's nasty enough." Hermione, for the first time, did not complain about Harry's disrespect for a teacher. There was a small moment of silence.

"Nah… She's nasty, but she isn't the type. Scaredy-cat," Ed said. "And besides, not even _Voldemort _would want to recruit her." Ron flinched at the name. He tried not to but he wasn't Harry. It was like his Mum had just sworn – something wrong, fearful and off-putting. Nobody noticed.

Umbridge was not in History of Magic as expected, which was a dull and tedious as always (Ed had fallen asleep, again) or in Potions in which Snape had decided to give Ron a P for poor. However, the woman did finally make an appearance in Divination. As they pulled at their dream diaries full of made of dreams for the past week, chatting idly about quidditch, Umbridge's head appeared in the trapdoor, causing everyone to instantly fall silent as though a shadow had suddenly settled in the room. She coughed in the thick, perfumed air. Professor Trelawney stopped handing out copies of the _Dream Oracle _and looked round to the wide, toad like smile.

"You received my note?" Professor Umbridge asked and Professor Trelawney nodded disgustedly before carrying on with handing out books. Umbridge's smile never faltered as she grabbed a chair and dragged it slowly and dramatically over to the front where she sat down with her note book in her hand. Even Ed had fallen silent. However much they thought Trelawney was a fake she was better than Umbridge and the class would not give her the satisfaction of kicking her out.

It seemed like it was not going well for the seer though. She was tense and nervous throughout the lesson as Umbridge followed her like a bat, hugging her large shawl close to her body and stuttering through every instruction.

"Think of a dream, quick," Harry whispered, glancing at Umbridge.

"I did it last time," Ron moaned. He hated coming up with dreams. His mind always went blank when he needed to think quickly. "You think of one." Harry thought for a second before replying.

"Umm…I was… playing quidditch with Ed," he said. Ron resisted the urge to laugh out loud. Ed hadn't even touched a broomstick in his stay at Hogwarts and the image of him playing quidditch was quite funny. Harry didn't seem to be concentrating as he read out sections of the _dream oracle_ and calculated dates and other seemingly unconnected things.

-o0o-

Ed was not interested in Dream Diaries. He had not been in the last lesson and he hadn't bothered to check if they had had any homework (nobody said anything so he simply pretended to be thoroughly engaged in his dream interpretation book). He thought the whole subject of Divination was utter rubbish but he did not voice those thoughts out loud. Umbridge was busily asking Trelawney a number of questions about her carrier and didn't seem to notice that like Ed, the majority of the class were listening in to the conversation over their books.

"And you are the great-great-grand daughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?" Umbridge asked.

"Of course," Professor Trelawney answered with her head a little higher than it had been before. Umbridge noted something down on her clipboard. A few more questions were asked, which Trelawney answered readily, right until the moment the last question was asked.

"Could you predict something for me?" There was a few seconds of still silence. Trelawney seemed to be panicking slightly, clutching at her shawl and stuttering past a few disjointed words.

"I don't understand you," she managed after a while.

"Can you predict something for me," Umbridge stated, very slowly and clearly. Trelawney seemed outraged. She stood up straight and fixed her eyes on the toad like woman with her hugely magnified, insect like eyes. Ed looked up, interested.

"The Inner Eye does not See upon command!" she shouted. Umbridge noted something down on her clipboard again. _Classic trick of a fake_, Ed thought with disappointment. For a moment, he had thought there might be something valid to be said.

"I see."

Trelawney seemed lost for words. She was shaking with anger, or maybe it was fear, Ed couldn't tell, and was staring at Umbridge with venom.

"_Wait!_" she said suddenly. She attempted to put on her mystical voice although it was partly ruined by the shaking tremor underneath it and Ed rolled his eyes. "I sense… I sense danger… and … great peril…"

Trelawney pointed dramatically at the still smiling professor.

"You are in grave danger!"

Umbridge made yet more scribbled notes on the clip board and by then Ed knew that there was no way Trelawney would be able to continue teaching whilst the toad had her way. With a sharp nod Umbridge turned and walked to the corner of the classroom, settling down with clipboard still in hand. Trelawney was stood unnaturally frozen; staring at the spot where the pink clad professor had just been with a vacant, if slightly shocked expression on her face. Ed went back to his book. He couldn't care less if Trelawney was kicked out.

For the rest of the lesson, Trelawney was unusually snappish and brisk. She dramatically predicted Ed's violent of premature death (which was, sadly, likely to happen anyway) whilst Umbridge stayed in the corner, making further notes on her clip board with a triumphant smile on her face.

-o0o-

Hermione had only ever slapped someone in the face once. It had been Draco Malfoy and quite honestly he had deserved it. The point was, Hermione was not the sort of person who would resort to crude violence. However if she had the chance to slap Professor Umbridge, she would.

Umbridge's lessons were quite honestly a waste of time. They did nothing but read a book with no practice of any of the spells and were still expected to get a good grade in their OWLs. The book itself was full of nonsense and living in a dream world of little to no need for defensive spells. It backed up its strong opinion of using no spells with unexplained theories, lack of evidence and wrong facts. The whole lesson was unproductive, unthoughtful and (although Hermione enjoyed reading immensely) boring. It wasn't just You-Know-Who that was a problem (and Hermione did realise it was a very big problem) it was the OWLs too - at this rate not many people would pass. Umbridge was trying to ruin their carrier.

Something simply had to be done. And Hermione knew exactly what.

-o0o-

"I would like you to read 'Chapter Two: Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation'. There will be no need to talk."

The class was silent but a metaphorical sigh rippled across the classroom as once again, the students got out their books to read. Once again, the class settled down to read. Once again, Umbridge did nothing but sit and stare at them. Harry kept his mouth shut, intent on not getting in trouble this lesson. Angelia would murder him if he missed Quidditch practice again. However, Hermione's hand was in the air as well as Ed's, just as in the first lesson. Umbridge seemed to have planned for this to occur and looked at the two with a polite smile.

"Do you have a problem?" Hermione opened her mouth to talk but Ed got there first.

"I've finished."

"Then move on to chapter three."

"I've finished that too. I've read the whole book." Hermione seemed a little disgruntled at the fact Ed had taken her spotlight again as he was frequently doing in many of the classes. Umbridge's eyes bulged in surprise but she recovered quickly.

"Oh," she said sweetly. "Then you can tell me what Slinkhard says about counter-jinxes in Chapter Fifteen then." Ed barely paused before answering.

"He says 'counter jinxes' is just a title used by members of the community who wish to make them _acceptable_ in the eyes of the general public." Although her smile was still plastered on her face, from the slight widening of her eyes, Harry could tell she was impressed although she didn't want to be. Hermione opened her mouth to say something

"It's rubbish. What's wrong with using them defensively?" Hermione's mouth snapped shut. There was another long pause.

"Well, it is Mr Slinkhart's opinion that matter's in this classroom, not yours Mr Elric. That will be five points from Gryffindor for interrupting my lesson." An angry hiss swept through the classroom like a hundred voices ready to rise.

"I am here as a teacher to teach you a Ministry-approved curriculum that does not include students trying to explain matters they cannot understand. Mr Slinkhart is an expert, you will not criticise him." Ed's fists, gloved as always, clenched. "Your previous teachers may have been more lenient on this matter but none of them would have passed ministry inspection, other than Professor Quirell, who at least taught subjects that were appropriate to your age…"

"Yeah. Quirell was great," Harry interrupted loudly, "except for the small, minor drawback of having Voldemort stuck to the back of his head." The silence was tangible.

"I think… you deserve another week of detention Mr Potter."

Harry had somehow managed to get another week's worth of detentions. Angelina was not impressed; nor was Professor McGonagall for that matter as the transfigurations teacher had thought it appropriate to deduct yet more points from her own house. Harry was brimming at the unfairness of it all. His hand had barely healed and by evening, it was dripping fresh blood.

-o0o-

It seemed that if Ed wanted any more information then he already had, then the forbidden section was the only option that was left to him. He did not have anyone's permission yet, but he didn't see the point of going now. It was past midnight (the bells had clanged long ago) and deathly quiet other than the soft snores of his dorm mates. Ed slowly teased open the curtains around his four poster bed, peeking out his head. All was perfectly still. If he went silently, nobody would catch him. Ed was bored. He didn't want to wait until the next day.

On tip toes, he left the common room. Behind him, the fat lady was snoring in her portrait and being careful not to wake her, Ed walked down the stairs. He realised now how an invisibility cloak, just like Harry's, would be useful; he didn't have one though, so he settled to make do.

It was strange, because in Amestris all he had to do was show his silver watch and his State Alchemist status would allow him to do much of what he wanted. Not having it anymore… Ed didn't know what he should feel. Relieved that his burden was gone? Or missing his once many privileges? No. He mustn't think of the past. Look forward, keep going; that was his motto.

Letting his feet guide him, Ed reached the library quickly. Pitch black - he could hardly see a thing in the gloom. The shelves of books that were so welcoming in daylight was tall and ominous, not dissimilar to the oppressing atmosphere of Grimauld place. Stepping as lightly as possible, he passed the familiar section open to the general masses of the school and in to the far more reclusive forbidden section. Even though Ed knew there was no physical change, he could not help the small shiver run down his spine.

It was in this grimy corner where, finally, Ed found his first clue on how to get home – a dusty book that obviously hadn't been read for some time about parallel worlds. Unlike some of the books here, it didn't scream or bite (to Ed's relief) and he flicked through the heavy sheets of dusty parchment quickly. There was little of interest - all unsupported theory and no practical - but there was one small passage caught Ed's attention.

_It seems that Parallel worlds can be accessed through a series of complex rituals which connects to runes. It seems that a sacrifice is needed; however this can probably be bypassed by a series of complex spells. I plan on doing more experimentation, the notes of which I will post on further editions. _

Ed's heart beat a little faster, painfully loud in the stillness. He had predicted long ago that there would be a sacrifice needed and that magic may be the solution but seeing it on paper like that was reassuring. The search for 'further notes were mostly futile, but finally he did find a small scrap of parchment in the author's most recent (at least ten years old) book.

He flipped it over uncertainly. There it was written, in careful writing:

_The experiment that I mentioned before was a success. _

_kzwymjwstyjxktzsify:ltytktgniijsktwjxybnymymnxstyj_

…which was not the answer he needed. It was, however a hint. The bottom line was a code; that much was obvious. He would try to crack it later. Runes. He needed to ask Hermione - maybe it was similar to alchemy. He copied both notes in to his notebook and hurried out of the library.

-o0o-

_Clank. _

Harry opened his eyes abruptly, sitting up and taking a deep breath. Straining his ears for any sign of what he had heard. There was nothing.

_Maybe it's just a dream, _Harry thought but as soon as the idea crossed his mind, suddenly a soft tap, tap started from the direction of the door; somebody was coming up the stairs leading to the dormitory. Keeping his breathing forcefully shallow Harry slowly reached for his wand.

The door opened with a creak. However the person who opened it was not an enemy at all, but Ed. His golden stare was surprised – Ed hadn't expected Harry to be awake.

"Where were you?" Harry asked with a low voice. Ed looked vaguely guilty for a second but waved the tension away with a hand.

"Library." Harry raised an eyebrow, but he did not say anything. Knowing Ed, who surpassed Hermione with being addicted to the library, it was probably true.

Evan after Ed had settled into bed, Harry lay awake for some time, staring at the crimson curtains around his bed. Was Ed acting suspiciously? The answer, quite frankly, was no. He was strange at times, but generally honest and neither the Marauders' Map nor Ron and Hermione's scouting trips had revealed anything to be apprehensive about. He was just a boy, like them, lost in a world that wasn't his.

The toad known as Dolores Umbridge made yet two more appearances the next day; one in Transfiguration and one in Care of Magical Creatures. She seemed to like the Care of Magical Creature's substitute teacher, Professor Grubby-Plank, although it was probably because she wanted every excuse to hate Hagrid when he came back. Professor McGonagall was as strict as always in her lesson and refused to be fazed by Umbridge's authority granted by the ministry. It was quite funny, actually, watching the flustered Umbridge trying to assert her control on the Transfigurations professor.

It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ed who no longer had to go to detention. His hand had healed somewhat, leaving only a faint white scar of his sharp, simplistic letters. Harry's, on the other hand, was bleeding fresh blood by the end of the evening. He was well behind on homework, and more disturbingly, sleep.

"You need to tell a teacher, Harry," Hermione said, as he dipped his hand in Murtlap essence (Harry had no idea what it was but Hermione had given it to him and it seemed to help). Harry shook his head.

"No, it won't do any good," he replied, for what felt like the thousandth time. "It's not like Fudge will tell Umbridge off. In fact, he'll probably find an excuse to blame Dumbledore of someone." Hermione bit her bottom lip lightly, unsatisfied. Harry sighed and winced as a fresh sting shot up his arm.

Ed sat by the fire, listening to Harry once again explaining why he wasn't telling a teacher about Professor Umbridge's a-little-more-then-illegal punishments. There was nobody there with him besides Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"We should do something about her," Hermione was saying.

"I suggest chucking her in the Forbidden Forest and seeing how long she survives," Ed interjected darkly.

"No… I mean, about learning Defence." Harry was confused. Defence? "As in, we're not going to learn anything from Umbridge." Ron groaned. Ed, however had perked up considerably.

"Not more work. Harry and I are so behind on homework!"

"But this is more important than homework," Hermione squealed. Harry and Ron stared. Hermione, saying something was more important than homework? "We need a teacher. Someone who knows what he's doing. We need you Harry." Harry goggled at her. _Wait, what?_

Need him? They didn't need Harry. All he had was a bad mouth and a lot of luck. What was Hermione saying? Had she finally lost it?

"No… I can't. I'm not a teacher," he stuttered out after a while.

"You can." Harry looked round surprised. Ed's golden eyes were vacant, as he stared in to the fire.

"You've seen him. You've fought him. You know what it's like to be about to die, to fear death – yours and your friends – and you know what it's like to live in the real world. It's in your eyes." He looked at him now, his gaze a drill. Harry kept staring. His mind was a blank roar. He couldn't do it.

"Please, Harry," Hermione begged. Harry glanced at Ron for support.

"Come on, mate," was the only answer he got.

You could hear a pin drop in the common room.

He wasn't a teacher, was he? He couldn't do it, could he? But… if Hermione was right…

"Yeah," Harry said finally, defeated. "I'll… think about it."

-o0o-

_He was walking down a long corridor towards a locked door. Pale fingers reached out, groping like a spider, but it never quite dared to touch the door. So close, but so far. Yearning, wanting, needing…_

What did he mean by 'I know'? Did _he _know?

Harry woke up with his scar aching.


End file.
